This old carved heart
sappy, bleeding part
from unhealed wounds
and unmet needs.
Or wretched heart
love once anew
now grows dull
and withered too.
The sap, like tears
our hopes and dreams
turn into fears
days turn years
house in arrears
homeless in cars
celing’s the stars.
Be still, old heart
a memory
you could possibly be
of sunshine through the trees
and lilacs smelling sweet
your head at my feet.
Maybe, dear heart
love died too young
a mourner touching
crying, sighing so
at the grave below.
And yet, this heart
might merely be
a promise of eternity
your hand inside mine
our bodies, entangled vines
love growing with time
like sweet aged wine.
– Sandra Johnson
Some lines made me think the heart was the US. My favorite line: “our bodies, entangled vines.” I like the ambling quality, the arc of pain to acceptance. If the heart is the US, I hope we become a “sweet aged wine.”
I didn’t intend it to be, but it could be for sure. Thanks.❤️
I enjoyed the rhythm and rhyme of this poem.
Love these lines:
“your hand inside mine/our bodies, entangled vines/love growing with time/like sweet aged wine.” They capture the feeling of wholeness one experiences when they have found love. Well done.
Thanks Tammi. I almost picked a random because love is hard to write about. But I ended up liking it a lot.