The Bent Lily
.
And so it comes to pass
that on a frosty winter’s
night my love for these
words cease to enlighten
me that I rest my quill in
it’s inkwell forevermore
.
And like the bent lily
knowing it will soon die
remains a thing of beauty
the words my heart utter
no longer have meaning
but will always persevere
awakening anew with the
warming thaw of spring
.
For poetry, like a flower,
meant to revive the spirit,
is only a transient affair
it is there to remind us of
the wonders and fragility
of a life that is at its very
best so little understood
.
In the end, I would rather
be remembered simply as
a mediocre novelist than
as a poet whose failures
and folly were exhumed
in every line he ever wrote.
.
For Samantha Reynolds
si finis bonus est, totum bonum erit
.
