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A Poem I Wrote

prairiechick

prairiechick

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Beauty

Beauty, Beauty is all lost to me;
vanished, it has abandoned me
in a colorless world, a dim, grey world
where soft winds no longer whisper
in the delicate aspen,
the sun no longer illuminates
their slender, white frame;
a world in which the joy of
no flower penetrates my heart;
a world in which elms are ordinary-
they no longer hold the sensual beauty
of graceful branches dancing, dancing,
dancing before a clear blue sky by day,
and by night soft lamplight playing on their limbs.

Beauty, Beauty is all lost to me.
The Holy Liturgy in all its
ancient Truth and Beauty no longer
holds me in rapt attention and awe
at the wonder of our God.
The loveliness of ancient form,
the Baptismal Font,
the archways and windows
reaching to the center point,
the alter laid with Cross and Bread and Wine,
no longer draw me into the mystery,
the sacred place, the Holy of Holies,
Communion with our God,
and this is greatest grief to me.

Copyright Fiona 2010

I wrote this poem back in summer.
 
pentagram

pentagram

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Hi Fiona, I like your poem, I think I possibly know where you are coming from. Possibly, of course since we can only ever live our own lives and have our own feelings towards religion.

The thing to do, well it was for me anyway, was to try to find new ways to find the beauty again, which I have done thanks to the love of a beautiful friend.

I hope you find a way to discover beauty again in whatever form it may come unto you.
 
A.m.b.e.r

A.m.b.e.r

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Spunky girl i love the imagery in this poem, i know it starts of with beauty is lost, but that poem in its self is just beautiful. x
 
Jo1760

Jo1760

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Hi Fiona,

Your poem really was wonderful to read - A piece you should be really very proud of.

X
 
prairiechick

prairiechick

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Thank you Jo. It really came out of the depths of personal experience, as is probably evident.
 
D

dreambuggieII

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Its a very moving poem, thank you for sharing.

Really wonderful to hear the word "aspen" - worked like magic
 
bulbie

bulbie

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Jul 21, 2010
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Ayrshire
I loved this poem. Gave me goose bumps. Or pimples. Whichever. Goosepimples.
 
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