where is the broom to sweep up all the shards

to redeal life's cards

when a loved one has gone away

and left a heart to break on its own

the sudden crippling chill of all alone


from all the years once spent together

and now the bed is bigger


no matter the number of blankets

they cannot fill that space beside where he used to lay

and keep me warm

where is heaven's mercy then

that makes an angel of one

so dear and hallowed in my life

who will not walk with me

but in memory . . . the rooms still hold his essence

like it's waiting patiently for him to return

his scent perfumes like a musky finest hour

fillling the air

his laughter still a ghostly tenant

in my heart that filled my ears

i cry but he does not spill with my tears

flowing down the smile lines he drew on my face with his soft kisses

as i gaze into the mirror alone

the place he left so many notes in

in shades of red that covered my lips

the "i love you"s with little hearts

i drew to dot the i...

he was my guy

i was the vessel he filled with his love

made life's journey so much easier

how he filled my sails . ..

now every wind carries hints of his voice

my one-sided conversations of all the plans we made

on those walks we used to take

we pointed at the snow on the mountain

how it seemed so big through our years

we laughed, imagining how cold it would be

up there, though his smile could melt the polar caps

and i would even tell him so

i see, the snows returning

time's great hands weighing the horizon

but that snow won't melt now,

i shelter the flame of his in my heart

though my steps are slowed and heavier

how he still keeps me warm

and that mountain doesn't look so big anymore

that place you laid down for your final sleep without me

not by your side to keep you warm now

it's all a mess now, time without him

hard to keep the place clean now

it doesn't feel so much like a home

without him by my side, sharing my life

maybe time is the bristled straw

against my final hours turning to dust

when my heart stops beating, too weak to go on anymore

and then to collect me and carry me to him

and my legs will be young again

and my arms will be strong again

and my heart will become whole again

and he will redraw those smile lines

with those soft kisses and touches

upon my smooth face

that future day i will once more sweep him off his spiritual feet

he is still my smile

my laughter

as i think of that coming day

no longer having to spend any of it without him

More like this:


nan shartel Aug. 21, 2011 @ 10:52 a.m.

just wanted u to know i really understood even tho i seemed rather pragmatic at the time hunnypie ;-D


quillpena Aug. 22, 2011 @ 12:28 p.m.

Very nice, but I don' think it means what I think it means. I suppose, however, that's what makes good poetry good; it can mean whatever is appropriate to the reader.


nan shartel Aug. 22, 2011 @ 12:35 p.m.

it's actually about a personal loss or a death...loss doesn't have to be death however...it can be anything that separates loved ones from each other Quill

divorce is a death of sorts.....


Twister Aug. 23, 2011 @ 2:33 p.m.

The norm, the reality, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, all pale when love's labor's not lost . . .

and it never is.


nan shartel Aug. 24, 2011 @ 2:55 p.m.

ya know ur one smart cookie Twister ;-S


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