Ethereal moonlight
Bathes the window casement
Teases me with her chaste beams.
Opulent flowers
Reminiscent of those blood-red roses
Shed their petals on a dusty mantelpiece.
Beautiful memories
Reverberate off these stone bare walls
Rekindle flames in these sad eyes.
Love is a sham
Clandestine mausoleum to those pretty days
So I force a smile to suppress my saddened heart.
Alison Jean Hankinson
This is for tonight where we are asked to have a heart by Lillian.
Image from Flickr….entitled-Valentine’s Day jewelry and roses by State Farm.
Original can be viewed here: Roses
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Hues of Hankinson 
oh….there is such a visceral sadness to this. And the word mausoleum adds a coldness to it too.
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Actually this scene reminds me of a Miss Havisham who have succumbed to melancholy instead of wrath,
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Such a sad and regretful poem.
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Roses and memories are no substitute for a lasting love. Sad.
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The thing we often forget is that Valentine’s Day can bring pain to those without significant others–lovely & sad piece, littered with dropped rose petals.
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A poignant view of love lost. Beautiful words.
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There is a tender wistfulness that accompanies your words.. touched my soul! xo
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How sad that love is a sham underneath the opulent red flowers ~
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“Ethereal moonlight/Bathes the window casement/Teases me with her chaste beams.” such hauntingly beautiful lines here.
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For years.. For Decades spent
and Christmas came and went
And i becAMe work away from heART..
And at my mother’s home.. sat cards of all
those who touched her heARt from years of
contact.. come again.. as love…
No cards at my
home for i was
work with
little
Love to spread
from desk and chair…
My Grandmother became
a painter in her 60’s after her
father died.. my mother.. a poet..
after her mother died.. and it seems
my mother could be close to that in a hospital
tonight.. yet known from the result of tests.. me..
too sick with a cold to enter into sanitized rooms where
germs could kill..
the thing is.. i never
took the time to send cards
before.. as one must give
without any expectation
to receive
as that’s
how
life works first..
i find noW in older
age more than ever before..
i never forget anyone who is nice
to me.. hehe.. and i rarely forget anyone
in a bad way who is mean to me.. greaTest
art comes from dARk when Love liveS on and
the more i come to hurt the more i come to Love
when
Love
wins Love wins.. lives liGht..
Happy Valentine’s mY.. FriEnd..:)
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Happy Valentines, a truly gift wrapped inspirational tale of real life and real love. I hope the mother pulled through.
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Sadly.. come to find.. she is not going
to.. but she lives Love through.. thanks.. my friEnd..:)
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Nice one
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Such a sad but also stately poem, that moves slowly, with dignity, reminding me of Miss Haversham.
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I liked the last line: “I force a smile to suppress my saddened heart” Hopefully that will work.
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