Jul 22 2011
The Lady Fair
There was once a lady pale and fair,
With eyes of emerald and ebon hair.
Her touch was the kiss of the spraying sea,
So sweet that I felt she must love me.
For I had given my heart unto her keeping,
Thinking of her even whilst sleeping,
Each and every thought and dream,
Was filled with those eyes and their emerald gleam.
So I went to the lady and laid bare my plight,
So she stook me in and held me one night,
Her kiss as sweet as stawberries in summer,
How deeply then I knew I loved her.
But she rose with grace at first daylight,
And garbed herself in purest white,
And with not a single word to me,
Vanished and left me to misery.
After my lady I long did chase,
Seeing only her sculpted face,
No dragon fierce or kingdom great,
Would keep me from my soul’s true mate.
But alas, when I found the lady fair,
Whose eyes were emerald and was ebon of hair,
She sat easily beside another,
And said that she loved no living other.
My heart went limp, my flesh went numb.
I was left deaf, blind, and dumb.
So I left her then, her beside him,
How could she harm me so on but a whim?
I wept until my heart did break,
And slept the sleep from which none wake.
For without her love I’d no reason to live,
So ’twas death to me my lady did give.
(3 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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Please don’t forget to select an appropriate category while submitting poems
Hahaha, ok. Sorry, I just usually don’t know where my stuff should go so I trust you to put it there….and after I started doing that I just gave up with the category thing, but ok I’ll start doing that again. Sorry for the inconvenience.
This is really good.
Thank you. 😀
“This is the way the world ends; not with a bang, but with a whimper.”
That seems appropriate, somehow.
OK Pixie, I’m going to reply to all the comments you so recently made here on this one poem, which is frankly not the best of my work, for the sake of convenience. I don’t see why depression and poems don’t mix well, I like to think that my poetry is very well done and that depression is just what I’m feeling and the feeling it creates. Yes, all of my poems are ‘like this’ and (assuming ‘this’ is a good thing) so are yours. You are one of the greatest poets I’ve ever read and by far the greatest poet I’ve ever had the pleasure of speaking to, so I do not see why you think that what skill I have in my works is ‘unfair’. Besides, not all of my work is this good, just the stuff I choose to submit which is then filtered again through admin. So relax, take a breath, know that no matter what you’re feeling or going through you can always come here and talk to me because the Gods know I’ve been there too and all I wanted was someone to talk to. And know also that you are a beautiful person, with a beautiful soul, and the poetry you write, because true poetry comes first and always from the soul, is as sincere, as touching, as beautiful and monumental as anything I’ve ever had the honor of reading. So…yeah….I don’t understand that quote freestanding, maybe in a poem… 🙂 No matter what happens in life, you’ve said nothing but kind things to me and your gift is unmatched and regardless of what others think I’ll always care for you, you are my friend.
And what did you mean when you asked me to stop doing this to you? Am I causing emotion? Is it just that reading what I write breaks down those mental defenses and forces you to feel something? I hope that’s it, and if it is then I will do my very best to continue to do so, because you are too special of a person to end up bitter, cold, and angry like me. So if I can keep emotions running through you then so help me, I will. Honestly I wish that I knew how to write poetry that was positive so that you could read that and feel things. The more I talk to you the more I just want to save you from whatever depression you’re battling, I just want to be able to say something that will make you feel better, but I don’t know what to say and for that I’m very very sorry. Don’t give up on life or love because if you do then you’ll be just like me and that is not something you want. I have to stop now before I lose my composure.
Awww. You’re making me cry again.
Stop doing this to me. You seem to make everything worse by making it better.
It’s creepy. But your poems are really one of the two reasons I get up in the mornings.
Don’t cry, Pixie, the last thing I want is for you to cry. Gods I wish I could just make you smile, make you laugh, make you happy, but I can’t. Dammit, I’m gonna cry if you don’t stop! Why do you do this? The things you write are beauty and pain, desperation and despair, eloquence and elegance given voice and in you given form, and I come back to this stupid website just to talk to you. >_< I'm not supposed to care for the well-being of someone I don't know, and I don't know how or why you do this to me. I'm sorry life is so fucked up, I would make it better if I knew how but I don't. I'm sorry love hurts so much, I would make that better too if I could but I can't. /sigh. ;-(
Then so help me God, I will try my hardest to keep doing it to you, if that is what keeps you going. Even thought I know the other reason, because that other reason is the reason that I and so many others get up in the mornin….we have to pee.
:p Crying is okay, you know. But only if they’re happy tears.
And yeah, that’s probably the third reason I get up in the morning ^_^
😀 Then whatever your reasons for getting up, I’m just gonna thank God that you do.