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Valentines Eve

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A day late and a dollar short, but here it is none the less

 

 

 

VALENTINES EVE

The sun is setting As she prepares her for evening After dusk dinner with her lover in gardens over there Basket of love all wrapped with love and flair She sets down the cutlery Pours two glasses of red wine A dozen roses she places on the tombstone Candles flicker surrounding the grave She clinks glasses, too you my love I smile meekly, taking a sip She whispers how she misses me so She gently caresses me and sings our song The moon is out, so full and bright We dance entwined, both past and present held tight She seductively sways, in the candle lit night A lone tears appears upon her cheek I am silent, intimately studying her face of sadness She knows I love her, even from below The wind and the sky both tell her so Her tear stained scarf falls right where I lie I smell her perfume, her passions my soul keeps The night becomes chilly, for our tears so weep She lays down beside me, holding me in stone She whispers you shall never be alone Before sunrise, up she is her basket packed to go She places one black rose upon me as the clouds part way She returns to her reality and me to my grave Turning round she speaks these words You can never leave me You can never go You are always beside my heart For I love you so In the morning sun The grave keeper is mending and pruning things just right As he walks over me, I am startled a wee bit with fright You see I had a dream just this last of nights That a lover came to whisper devotions and hold me tight There was no woman, no lover, no visitor to my enclave For even the dead and soulless, have dreams from underneath My hell on earth is to be buried right here in earthy toils Knowing no lover will place a flower at the foot of my grave The wind blows Leaves twirling up in the sky The wind blows A black rose falls upon my grave

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 2/22/2016 11:40:00 AM
Im sure the dead can dream ..and the difference between the living who are left to mourn is..that yhe living might dream ..and their dreams end up in loss,but the 'dead' ..The dead already have what they dream of before they even ask..Thats how 'me thinks '. : ),but my thoughts are. 'Opeless at times .: ).Your poem is sad but so beautiful..It describes so well the ache of absence. .and the emotions of undying love.Reminds me of one of my old fave. movies.. 'Ghost ' . A fave.
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/22/2016 3:50:00 PM
Thank you Charmaine, such lovey words from you as usual! Hugs
Date: 2/19/2016 4:12:00 PM
Touching and impressive!
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 7:40:00 PM
Thank you so much!
Date: 2/15/2016 12:50:00 PM
awesome, you are a great story teller, and you send chills and all sorts of things through my blood :)
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 7:37:00 PM
Oh la la!!!! :) hugs
Date: 2/15/2016 11:52:00 AM
WOW with capital letters. Your mind travels to places mine does not and I am all the better for it. Love the creativity, the drama has such a great kick. I'm impressed ... CayCay
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 6:28:00 PM
LOL Thanks CayCay, all fiction of course!! :)
Date: 2/15/2016 7:47:00 AM
With imagery like this arthur, able to dream in the next phase of life we call death. wonderful.
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 6:26:00 PM
Thank you Harry, much appreciated!
Date: 2/15/2016 3:49:00 AM
- A unique Valentine poem, well done Arthur ! - hugs // Anne-Lise :)
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 6:26:00 PM
Thank you very much Ann Lise! Hugs
Date: 2/14/2016 11:10:00 PM
Lot to dwell upon.... I'll be back... Have that work thing to do
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/19/2016 6:17:00 PM
Thanks Tim, TGIF
Date: 2/14/2016 10:10:00 PM
Has this become Dream-ception?? Ha ha ha. By the way ... I think you meant to say "For I love you so" not "for I love so" ... just thought I'd point out!
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/14/2016 10:17:00 PM
Thanks Tim, now point me to the bar! LOL
Date: 2/14/2016 10:01:00 PM
Wow, how dramatic. It's meaningful and yet quite eerie. I don't know where you come up with these unique story-poems, but they sure give me odd feelings after I read them. Did the dead at long last receive his Valentine's rose; do the dead really dream? It's all opening to interpretation. If this is the Valentine's poem you mentioned in your blog, then I'm not sure what you're talking about. I thought it was quite good!
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Arthur Vaso
Date: 2/14/2016 10:03:00 PM
That was the idea, who was there, who was dreaming, him or her! or the graveyard maintenance guy! LOL thanks Tim

Book: Shattered Sighs