
Photo by whoislimos on Unsplash
Hope is a Ghost
Her august leaf blushed first
among a sea of green.
Flitting about shrinking margins,
Hope craved seasonal embraces
that won’t come.
In her rosy bliss,
buffeted by autumn winds,
she was but the first to fall.
She’ll never know
her lover has moved on.
** *
Written for dVerse’s Quadrille #42, a poem of hope, hosted by De Jackson (Whimsy Gizmo). Other’s have contributed more hopeful poems here. Sadly, I’m pretty depressed, so it’s difficult to keep hope alive these days.
First off, your title is gorgeous. Then, THIS:
“she was but the first to fall”
This is achingly lovely. Your talent shines through, despite the depression. I am praying hope over you.
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Thanks, De. 🙂
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PS: Your blog title makes me smile. Every.Time.
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Glad you like the title. I was going for both grand and insignificant. 🙂
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Well, it’s lovely, with an autumn melancholy to it.
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Thank you. 🙂
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I like how you described the ominous ending
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Thanks. 🙂
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How sad, hope gave up and moved on. The Autumn reference has an otherworldly etherial feel. I also liked the last verse: “she’ll never know, her lover has moved on”.
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Thanks, Walter. Glad you stopped by.
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Barry, This is strongly felt; admire the double meaning of the shrinking margins, and, well, this entire poem holds together so remarkably well. We all hold on. By the way, love that you included the Isley Brothers – too long since I’ve listened to this one.
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Thank you. Isley Brothers are one of my parents’ favorites. Mine too.
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Mine too !
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🙂
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That somber last line is a real clencher. Great write.
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Thank you. 🙂
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Wow. I really like the way you compared a love affair’s ending to the changing of seasons. Well done.
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I like that you see a love affair ending here. That was not my true intent, though I did try to lean into the abstract a bit so that the palpable despair could be read many ways. Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts.
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I love the first three lines and the last two.
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Thank you. I tried checking out your blog, but perhaps you have taken it down for maintenance?
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Wonderful title, Barry, and your Quadrille left a tear. I love the blushing August leaf, hope craving seasonal embraces and rosy bliss.
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Thanks for reading. Sorry to make you tearful.
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I love your writing!
So sorry to learn you’re depressed. Will hope better days for you 🙏
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Thank you.
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Barry, this is beautiful and the perfect song selection too.
“In her rosy bliss,
buffeted by autumn winds,
she was but the first to fall.”
Just beautiful.
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Thanks trE! Always a melancholy vibe with them Isleys.
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There is something so sad with that last breath of summer… just like your hope in this poem
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I agree. Thanks, man.
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I always find it sad to see summer ending…but then trees burst into joyful colors and there is a new reason to have hope and be joyful in a cacophony of color. But you’ve given me reason to pause here, with that first autumn leaf to fall….that must leave the joyous colorful riotous others who hang on and celebrate still. That first leaf that must leave the group and fall to the ground, to lie and lose its margins and shrivel in the autumn sun, to dry and brown. As you can tell, I am deeply enamored with your writing here! 🙂
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Thank you. I’m glad you liked it. 🙂
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And so it is…You write it as it is Barry ~ Appreciate your candour in the poem, and your title ~
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Thanks. Sorry about the wet blanket. It’s included automatically with most of my poems.
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The image in your first stanza would pair with a photo I just took a couple weeks ago. It was so very odd that one red leaf stood out in a whole tree of green leaves.
I like the use of “shrinking margins” and the personification of hope.
Wishing you sunnier days, Barry.
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Thank you. 🙂
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