Winter/Life...A sweet release

More simple fayre

Death, darkness, dormancy,
and every shade of grey
in this season of transition
that has night meld with the day,
where living now a graveyard shift
as nothing stirs, no sound,
the past old headstones rising through
an ermine covered ground,
that holds to heart in hallowed earth
our memories, tears and pain
for those who silent left to wait
until we meet again,
somewhere beyond this fleeting life,
somewhere in blissful peace
where winter, death, no longer seen
since granted sweet release...

Reviews

[Kady R.]

Hiiii Geee!! 🎆🎇🤗🤗🎆🎇

Love the rhyming in this poem. Beautifully done. This is such a creative way to talk about the winter time. I loved how you started with the dormancy and death that the season brings, and ended the poem with renewal of the season. Indeed its true every year winter comes all is in hibernation and then the spring comes the season of renewal. I love nature poems and the seasons is one of them. Thanks for sharing🤗🤗🤗

[Gee]

Thanks Kady, glad you enjoyed

[Kady R.]

Anytimeee🤗🤗🥰🥰

[Vol]

Gee,
Woooo! Once in a while you encounter something beautiful that, when you hold it in your hand, you have to pause to take it in. I think of poetry as jewels, and this one is brilliant! The subject raises its evil head for me every June 21st, because it reminds me that this day is coming... well partial day, truncated day, dark days ahead.
Headstones and memories at my age are a far too present reminder that the longest part of the road is behind me, and memories tend to loom as bittersweet reminders there are no U-turns ahead.
Thank you for this one and its sweet release...
Vol

[Gee]

Hi Vol, thanks for your kind words, much appreciated.
Hope you are keeping well

[Eilis]

The images of your poem are somewhat haunting. The silence of the scene with the memories and passing seasons lends to that haunt in a deeper way. I think your winter is different and longer to mine. Most of my year is summer so the winter is a relief, a reprieve. The stillness and the ability to spend time in nature without heat stroke is something I look forward to. Your poem teaches me something about winter from a different perspective. Winter is the grey season, yes. A place to sink in to contemplation and a place that mimics our losses that will always remain with us while we wander here. You describe it well. Your poetry is never simple. Always lyrical and speaking to truth of life.

[Gee]

Thank you Eilis.

[Papaya]

A beautiful, poetic reflection on the stillness and quietude of this time, where memories of departed loved ones are held dearly.

[Gee]

A very tardy thank you Anaq

[John Alexander McFadyen]

This is a stunning poem with its metre and evocative descriptions. I read it two ways; one as the protagonist enduring the transition into winter and second as the move from life to death.

[Gee]

Hi John, mainly the latter, a release to, hopefully, a pain free whatever, wherever :)

[emmajoygreen]

The content of your poem is beautifully metered. its words mean and touch me so much, Gee. Read it way back but.. would have been more of me than you, my friend, had I reviewed then. Feeling the cold and dark of death leaves a person emotionally raw. The following says so much,

'.. until we meet again,
somewhere beyond this fleeting life,
somewhere in blissful peace
where winter, death, no longer seen
since granted sweet release...'

[Gee]

A very late thank you Emmaj

[emmajoygreen]

It's fine, I understand. Stay safe and well.

[Bhuyanshi Talukdar]

Your poem is a beautiful and poignant meditation on the season of winter, and the way that it represents a time of transition and reflection. I love the way you describe this time as a "season of transition," where "death, darkness, and dormancy" reign, and where "every shade of grey" seems to dominate the landscape. The way you describe living in a "graveyard shift," with "nothing stirs, no sound," is particularly haunting, as it captures the sense of stillness and emptiness that can pervade this time of year. I also love the way you describe the past as "old headstones rising through an ermine covered ground," as it speaks to the way that memories and emotions can be buried deep within us, waiting to be unearthed. The final stanza of your poem is particularly beautiful, as it speaks to the hope that we can find in the midst of this darkness, and the way that death can be seen as a release from the pain and suffering of this world. Overall, I think your poem is a beautiful and moving tribute to the season of winter, and the way that it can inspire both sadness and hope in our hearts. It made me feel both melancholy and uplifted, and I really enjoyed reading it.

[Gee]

A belated thank you

[Kelly Scheppers]

One sweet day, it shall be...when we transition to the next realm of our existence. Your words give much comfort and peace, Gordon. It almost reads like a prayer.

[Gee]

Thank you Kelly.
Hope you are keeping well

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I have several people I hope to see again someday...but it won't be in this life.
Their gravestones perhaps hint of possibilities...we don't forget.
Nothing stirs yet we know their spirits stay and watch over us, wait for us.
this is a hauntingly beautiful write.
j.

[Gee]

Thank you Jacob

[willweb]

That was gorgeous, the meter, the rhymes, the flow and melody of this piece were spot on. I could almost sing this as i read it. Wonderfully written

[Gee]

Very kind words, thank you. Appreciate very much your visits.