Star Child

 

                                Star Child

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sadly do I, your star child reminisce of days gone, my feline

friend by my side, preening his tiger-striped fur with his

sandpaper fine tongue, my candle lit, it’s flame flickering

and releasing the only scent  of lavender that brings me joy

of you as it frees all of my senses to dance in the shadows.

 

I am at peace in my room this night  overlooking the twinkling

lights of the city with all of its creatures that stir in the night,

toiling over their own souls of loss, hope and brighter mornings

as the chill penetrates where they lay.

 

I remember clearly your silhouette that lonely dark morning

as you stood in the shadows, your gown white as the Toledo sails

flapping ever so gently high above the ship that took you so far

away from me,your sable black hair glistening in the dawn,

your olive skins texture caressed my fingertips as we parted.

Pressing my lips to my fingers to taste you one last time.

oh my love, why did you leave me all alone to face the world

without you in it?

 

Like no other you left an impression upon me, like no other

before you, my heart ached and cried for you in every waking

hour, tormenting me throughout my lonely sleepless night.

You and only you stayed and penetrated my dreams, turning

them into the saddest accounts of desperation, awoken often

gasping for my breath, hoping you would be by my bedside to

lay your palm on my brow and calm me back to sleep.

 

But you were gone, the short spell we loved, we loved with

such intensity, our worlds collided and like two galaxies we

came together as one, yes two star children, glittering and

shining through the Universe, finally to meet on a cold harsh

winter night, just five short years ago. You knew me from first

glance; you said that we were meant to be together through

eternity. Oh those years spent were spent in total gratitude,

united by flesh, hearts, love and sorrows.Yet we were steadfast

and strong.

 

A force to be reckoned with they would say. Could it be that

two such as you and I could actually be ONE in the same,

like twin souls meant to be together forever! But it was not to

last, somehow our armor was flawed, the sword entered and

found its mark and we fell at the feet of our enemies. Now I

watch us drifting off to sea, the boat taking us away, wrapped

in it’s ribbons of white sails as our flesh becomes one with the

albatross who guides us safely back to frolic in and embrace

the galaxy of exploding stars. The torch lit, we are set ablaze

to live forevermore.

© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved

Vincent Moore

Vincent Moore

Vincent Moore pens his thoughts about many things and has a style all his own. Sometimes, he parties with words excessively and it becomes necessary to publish quickly lest his work be lost in the dark corners of his room or his mind. Vincent will lead you into mysterious worlds that are strange yet somehow familiar, worlds that will leave you unsettled and breathless for more.

He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published.In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.
Vincent Moore

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Vincent Moore

Vincent Moore pens his thoughts about many things and has a style all his own. Sometimes, he parties with words excessively and it becomes necessary to publish quickly lest his work be lost in the dark corners of his room or his mind. Vincent will lead you into mysterious worlds that are strange yet somehow familiar, worlds that will leave you unsettled and breathless for more. He was born and raised in Montreal Canada among the Irish, Brits, Italians and French. Point St Charles (commonly called The Point) was the Hell’s kitchen of Montreal. He played, cried, laughed and fought on the street corners, survival was an instinct and watching each others back important. Vincent left home at 17 to find his way in the world, failure and success he had plenty of. He studied the Arts and loved to draw and paint. Took acting lessons and envied those on the stage under the bright lights and hoped to some day become an actor, writer, playwright or painter. Vincent welcomes you to his world of mystery, fantasy and solitude. You can find a few of his writings in one of 3 books he's published. In Absinthia- In Melancholia and In Passionata.

8 thoughts on “Star Child

  • August 16, 2018 at 11:27 PM
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    Sometimes a love that is so right comes into our life for a fleeting moment in time. Though it seems it should last forever, the parting does come and it is sad – yet, there is a purpose for that encounter, a purpose we may not realize right away. This is a lovely verse, though sad, and well penned, Vincent.

    Reply
    • August 17, 2018 at 5:53 AM
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      Thank you Phyllis, yes I do believe everything happens for a reason, it’s another lesson learned in this life, fleeting as it is.

      Reply
    • August 17, 2018 at 5:54 AM
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      Thank you John, nice to see you. Bittersweet indeed, such is love for far too many.

      Reply
  • August 17, 2018 at 1:50 AM
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    The sad mourning of a lost love, so deeply felt and embedded in the soul. Tragic yet beautifully emoted and with some wonderful phrasing all praising the gifts of love. And in that I always remember the Irish saying…’What’s for you can’t pass by you.’ Great work Vincent.

    Reply
    • August 17, 2018 at 5:57 AM
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      Thank you Tony for your kind words. Tragic and sad it is, love comes and goes. Maybe its a teaching tool, for those of us who need it? I’ve never been lucky in love, passionate and physical indeed but lasting not for long. Although I do praise those gifts as fleeting as they may be. I like that Irish saying too my friend. Cheers.

      Reply
  • August 19, 2018 at 11:59 PM
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    Your lovely poem tugged at my heartstrings. How many times has love played its fickle melody? Too many to count. Still, they make for memories of another time. when the world was young…or was it I who was young?

    Reply
    • August 20, 2018 at 8:49 AM
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      Hello Audrey and welcome back to the site, hope to read your work as you publish it here. Yes thankfully we have memories of our past, I have some pleasant memories, although I also had many broken heart ones as well. We will stay forever young as our bodies change and start to slow down. We will go on. Thank you for your comment Audrey.

      Reply

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