A bronze box dressed in a garland of
magnolias, gloved hands, no longer
moving with grace, pale is the cold
emaciated face, no longer slim, showing
deep folds, no one can see the beauty of
her soul. Profiled by a stain-glassed pane,
the only people there were those who would
Once flesh and blood that charmed the most
handsome of men with her rosy cheeks finally
became old, feeble and weak. Relatives sat
troubled with bitter sneers, and unread “Will”
drove them to fear, her last thoughts about
Sitting in the front pew her withered old lover
was on everyone’s mind, to her his heart he gave,
stood by her side ever so brave. It was he that
watched the skeleton form, no longer omitting a
beautiful scent; it was he that watched in horror
as her beauty went.
When death appeared at the door, tears he finally
wept, yet the old lover did not sway in the constant
vigil he kept. He lit a candle for hope, his violin
soft and clear filled her room; he fought imminent
Once irresistible lovers lying face to face, he did
wonder if she were paying for their lifetime of sins.
One last time she opened her fathomless eyes, her
smile gripped his soul, he could not live without
her, he too would die and their story would never
The relatives that watched as he leaned forward
seemingly in prayer, their hearts filled with fault
and foolishness they did not care. Sate-less was
their greed, serpents that had waited for this long
awaited death, missed the joining of two lover’s
souls when the flame of life left his heart.
He and his Lady would walk together in eternity, the
lovers who were destined to be together from the very
start. Proud lovers that lay side by side, and danced to
the sound of a single violin, together again…husband,
wife, lovers and friends.
5 thoughts on “A Single Violin…”
A magnificent narrative poem with excellent use of lyrics and phrasing. The voice and tone add to the funereal and tenebrous atmosphere. Great work Ann – well done.
Thank you Mike. Ann
Sniff sniff… Beautifully expressed.
This is an incredible piece of writing, Ann,so full of emotion, passion and melancholy. I love the way that you have captured the impermenance of life. Your writing here reminded me a lot of ‘stream of consciousness’ writing. Fabulous!
Chris, thank you so much, your comment means a lot to me. Ann
Comments are closed.