This is the first and last poem I write before I go to Switzerland.
After this, I am off the English.
This is poem about a man who lost his wife in a car crash and keep having this dream about her everyday.
The time passed slow;
It passed on like
A wind upon the summer meadow
Of deep green sea.
And there I was, a tree
Upon that meadow,
Oblivious of the passing time
That slowly took your life.
It was the wind that took me so suddenly,
The gentle roll sweeping up the meadow,
The memory that met my leaves
Like a gentle kiss on my cheek.
The wind portrayed your face,
Your face as bright as a sun’s ray
Yet sad as a setting sun
O so beautiful yet pitiful,
And your voice so tender and pure,
Cool and sweet as a midnight breath
Yet comforting as a spring day’s wind
O let me here again!
There, then, I woke
With a start from the dream;
I was groping to the ceiling,
My hands clinging dearly for them.
I reached for the beer
Slopping it all over my front.
And groped my head, screaming,
I want this to end.
There again, a tree,
Old and bent with failing leaves,
One by one,
Falling like a dancing petal.
Time worked on me brutally,
It whipped my leaves away,
And bent my back even further
Until I couldn’t stand it; I was afraid.
It was the morning of white winter
When I looked up for once
And glimpsed at the single leaf
That was peeking out of snow.
It was a hope, the happy memory I had with you,
That woke me from the fear,
That glistened like a star shining through ominous clouds,
That hanged dearly by the broken branch.
You whispered softly into my ears
John, I wish today was forever.
The day of our honeymoon;
The day I want to cherish evermore.
The time passes slow;
It passes on like
A wind upon the summer meadow
Of deep green sea.
And there I am, a tree
Of kindling leaves,
Upon the green meadow
With you forever.
