H'worK for w/e 20.8.18 - HOPE
Posted: Sun Jul 29, 2018 10:56 pm
HOPE ... Maureen Clifford © The #ScribblyBark Poet
In drink he strives to drown the thoughts that wander through his mind unasked
along with visions cruel and sad enough to see a man unmasked.
Enough to move a man to tears, enough to see sweet sanity leave
enough to cause so much despair, that there is little time to grieve
for every second seems an hour and every hour, a lifetime spent
regretting what had gone before - a love that came and finally went.
A whips harsh lash will scald and sear and tender flesh will tear and bleed,
likewise harsh words will scar the soul and love will up and finally leave
at last, with velvet sandals shod in shriveled hope and grim despair,
a heart filled with despondency, no longer nurtured by love's care.
And once the final gate is closed, and once the road less travelled taken...
no return can be contemplated - life's been stirred and badly shaken.
The scent of dew was always sweet , likewise the perfume of the rose,
although he smelt its scent no more - she'd left for good ... that's how it goes
when blame's unleashed and not recalled, direction lost and no map sought.
False accusations hurled at will when stress has made one quite distraught.
No one to blame but blame himself, he heard clear after a few beers
his mocking laughter, harsh and cruel as she with him shared hidden fears.
A man's to blame for bleaching bones scattered 'cross paddocks dry and bare,
when pride won't let him ask for help although he's sunk in deep despair.
A man's a fool to turn his ire and anger on the one who loves
him and the land, and would stand strong when push surely would turn to shove.
He let her go, drove her away and now alone he faced his fears
How would he cope? Why should he care? No cash flow - only huge arrears.
He felt soft pressure 'gainst his knee, a gentle head, a questing paw
as Nell his Kelpie huddled close her plumey tail thumping the floor.
Limpid brown eyes stared into blue, no fear or accusation there
and lightning flickered 'cross the hills, the scent of rain was in the air.
He rose and patted her sweet head, and fetched her bowl from off the floor
and filled it with kibble and roo - tucker that she was asking for.
He filled two bottles with warm milk and snapped on them the rubber teat
then onto the verandah strode - two orphaned lambs ran to his feet.
He sat down in the Squatters chair and fed those two - both thin as rails
and laughed to see them guzzling, whilst waving helicopter tails.
He'd named them Hope and Charity and as they fed he had a thought
that charity begins at home and hope and love are always sought.
Tomorrow he would seek her out, apologise for hurt and pain.
Decision made his tears ran free and likewise the life giving rain.
In drink he strives to drown the thoughts that wander through his mind unasked
along with visions cruel and sad enough to see a man unmasked.
Enough to move a man to tears, enough to see sweet sanity leave
enough to cause so much despair, that there is little time to grieve
for every second seems an hour and every hour, a lifetime spent
regretting what had gone before - a love that came and finally went.
A whips harsh lash will scald and sear and tender flesh will tear and bleed,
likewise harsh words will scar the soul and love will up and finally leave
at last, with velvet sandals shod in shriveled hope and grim despair,
a heart filled with despondency, no longer nurtured by love's care.
And once the final gate is closed, and once the road less travelled taken...
no return can be contemplated - life's been stirred and badly shaken.
The scent of dew was always sweet , likewise the perfume of the rose,
although he smelt its scent no more - she'd left for good ... that's how it goes
when blame's unleashed and not recalled, direction lost and no map sought.
False accusations hurled at will when stress has made one quite distraught.
No one to blame but blame himself, he heard clear after a few beers
his mocking laughter, harsh and cruel as she with him shared hidden fears.
A man's to blame for bleaching bones scattered 'cross paddocks dry and bare,
when pride won't let him ask for help although he's sunk in deep despair.
A man's a fool to turn his ire and anger on the one who loves
him and the land, and would stand strong when push surely would turn to shove.
He let her go, drove her away and now alone he faced his fears
How would he cope? Why should he care? No cash flow - only huge arrears.
He felt soft pressure 'gainst his knee, a gentle head, a questing paw
as Nell his Kelpie huddled close her plumey tail thumping the floor.
Limpid brown eyes stared into blue, no fear or accusation there
and lightning flickered 'cross the hills, the scent of rain was in the air.
He rose and patted her sweet head, and fetched her bowl from off the floor
and filled it with kibble and roo - tucker that she was asking for.
He filled two bottles with warm milk and snapped on them the rubber teat
then onto the verandah strode - two orphaned lambs ran to his feet.
He sat down in the Squatters chair and fed those two - both thin as rails
and laughed to see them guzzling, whilst waving helicopter tails.
He'd named them Hope and Charity and as they fed he had a thought
that charity begins at home and hope and love are always sought.
Tomorrow he would seek her out, apologise for hurt and pain.
Decision made his tears ran free and likewise the life giving rain.
