The angels are crying
There’s a storm in my soul
When the water washes
Me, I feel cold
Years drip silently
The flood never ends
Life gets carried
On a wave of regret
There’s nothing to
Be sorry for
But still I mourn
The past
Regrets never gave me
Anything that might last
Portugal Cove, NL, 1908 (Photo credit: Musée McCord Museum)
i can feel that second stanza quite well. i was there for many years. thank goodness it’s moving away.
How very true.
Your language is so emotive. Thanks
regret…such a painful place to be…feel it here…
Then again . . . too few too mention . . .
Another beautiful poem full of feeling, Andy.
A balm for the soul.
Lovely. Brings ‘Can one mourn the past without regret?’ into my mind.
Good question. One I haven’t got the answer for, but I can feed on that thought.
Thanks for your response. And me too.
This is wonderful.
Bella and DiDi
This has a kind of music and the rhymes work.
Thanks Simon – it’s more difficult than I sometimes think it should be, but I should put more time into it really. Love the gravatar!!
For me it’s not a matter of time, Andy – at least, not consciously dedicated time. It comes right or it doesn’t and then editing is little adjustments like taking out “and” or “the”, adding a comma to make the meaning clear or changing a word with an unhelpful double meaning. This one came out right.
The gravatar is Neanderthal art. I really feel it connects.
the way this ends…
“Regrets never gave me
Anything that might last”
Perfection…
peace to you