Winter Of Her Years
Life went on,
the years flowing swiftly,
through her turbulent life.
She above all,
was no stranger to heartbreak,
no true love,
coming her way.
So she liked to think,
that she was forever,
in the winter of her years,
with no passionate love,
to melt the snow and ice –
from her aching heart.
The seasons came and went,
but to her, she was forever,
frozen in a winter world,
that made all the other seasons,
pale by compare.
When spring flowers bloomed,
above her head were stormy skies,
in the summer the roses grew,
but the thorns pricked
and made her heart bleed.
When autumn winds blew,
the swirling colours,
faded to black and white,
knowing that soon –
she would be thrown into another wintertime.
On and on she went,
always one set of footprints left behind,
she never looked about her,
not wanting to see the love lights,
in other people’s eyes.
The winter of her years held her suspended,
unsure of what life might bring,
never knowing if things might change.
Soon silver strands,
began to pepper her raven hair,
yet she still didn’t give up the dream,
that someday, someway,
a true love would come along –
taking her out of the winter of her years.
- Her Magical Attic - May 24, 2024
- Reflecting on the Setting Sun - April 9, 2024
- In My Special Dreams - February 16, 2024
Nicely emotive Rasma, but for your protagonist here, her expectations were realized. If one does not make room for love in life, it can never be. Also, I believe that notions of romantic love, even in poetry, can set aside what true love means: and the world is filled with it, even if we do not have a soul mate. Love, particularly as we get older, changes considerably, and that is far more profound than people may assume. In art, love has always been portrayed in terms of romance, which is interesting as those feelings change and evolve. Yet we all chase that feeling, consider it to be far more important than it is. A universal love is a deeper and more resilient aspect of love yet rarely written about. Interesting. As always well penned and expressed Rasma. (sorry for the rant:) )
Thank you, Tony and your point well taken. That is the thing about love when it is turned into poetic form it can get overdramatized, over fantasized and many other such things. In reality it is very different indeed but as always I find myself going with how I am inspired, many times even writing misty-eyed as the emotions come flowing out. I have discovered that I am just like my mom was when my dad died leaving her with ten-year-old me. She enjoyed the rest of her life and even has a ball, so to say but she never loved again, not in that way. It is coming up to a year since my husband passed away and I know I will enjoy returning to the US to change my life around, I know I will still have many wonderful moments but I will never love again not that way ever. That I all leave to my poems, my inspiration and for others to take pleasure in the poetic words I write. Sorry, you got me going here. I like exchanging more thoughts than thank you and so on.
Being in my winter years (73) I understand your character’s needs and yearnings. I always enjoy your poems, Rasma. This is so emotive and nicely penned. I do agree with Tony that the real test of love comes late in life, when the excitement of romance and carnal desires have faded, or at least calmed down. Love becomes much deeper if one finds comfort in just being together, sharing the love of nature and all living things. Nice work indeed.
Thank you, Phyllis.