A Last Moment's Whisper

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As if it were some warm, summer afternoon,

golden sun rays enhancing his eyes,

reflected on his beloved’s face.

He could not see her cry,

could not see those sapphires

spoiling their glisten with tears.

For a last moment’s whisper

was all he could hear.

Senses grow numb.

Such is the effect of love.

Least when they expect it,

Sweet hearts forget.

He cannot remember his name,

And she, what a shame!

A bittersweet crime it is to surfeit

In the embraces of another,

However tight and snug love may be,

Let us cling tightly to our senses

Despite this tension,

He can withhold from prolonging

What was not meant to be

And while her grasp is firm

Still he can bear,

Then last a moment’s whisper

Was all he could hear.




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SweetMoments here to review!
The flow was nice and the imagery was quite nice at the beginning but then I felt that it became less near the end. I quite like this poem. Well done, keep writing for its the best thing to do!
A hero isn’t defined by winning. Loads of heroes die in the effort. Most of them never get any recognition. No, a hero is just somebody who does the right thing when it would be far, far easier to do nothing.


~Previously SweetMoments




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This is a very pretty poem; you have some lovely imagery going on here. I loved the first lines in particular:

As if it were some warm, summer afternoon,

golden sun rays enhancing his eyes,

reflected on his beloved’s face.

He could not see her cry,

could not see those sapphires

spoiling their glisten with tears.


These caught my attention, something you always want to do at the beginning of a piece.

Least when they expect it,


This might flow better if you worded it "When they least expect it."

He cannot remember his name,

And she, what a shame!


Obviously these two lines rhyme. The only problem with that is that throughout most of the poem, you seem a little uncertain as to whether you really want the lines to rhyme or not. I'd suggest either eliminating the rhyme altogether, or giving it a steadier pattern.

A bittersweet crime it is to surfeit


Surfeit, nice vocabulary here!

However tight and snug love may be,


This is just a personal opinion, but I don't really favor the use of "snug" here. Maybe a more sophisticated word?

Then last a moment’s whisper


The wording here is a little confusing. You might try replacing "last" with "at last" or "finally" to clear up the meaning a bit.

Overall: I like this poem. It presents emotion without being sappy, and as I said before, your language is beautiful. Keep up the good work!
You must be swift as the coursing river,
With all the force of a great typhoon,
With all the strength of a raging fire,
Mysterious as the dark side of the moon.



mashed potatoes are v a l i d
— Liminality