Pale Veiled Memory

Pale spectre in the mind...

Please click on this music link The Poet Acts to listen to, while you read, and let the music set the mood.

Pale Veiled Memory
for U.

Pale specter in the mind of nighttime’s sheer illusions,
You no longer glide through my blowing veiled halls.
Hard reality, sometimes known as truth, has snatched you up
And turned you into boring mortalness, so cold and colorless .

But I remember an open window, when your time was my time,
Where we both laid and dreamed right through it, counting stars,
And our bed rocked upon a sea of excitement and uncertainty,
Your hand pressed to my face, when I was sleeping, when I was weeping.

I Will you, to walk again and meet me in new midnight chambers,
You were the only one in all my life who fit so perfectly,
I grow weary in this quest of  finding what we had, in someone new,
If I could build a cemetery and bury you, then there might be, a chance for me.

Glide to me lithe memory, that holds nothing of reality, I stand waiting.
If prayers are heard, than let my summons be your greatest joy,
To lay with you on satin sheets with curtains blowing wild on summer- breeze,
One last time, may you be mine, then tenderly, I set you free… Oh, pale veiled memory.

Karima Hoisan
May 2, 2011
Renacer Link Island, SL
©2011 all rights reserved

* please see my comment below

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5 Responses to Pale Veiled Memory

  1. I know it is “mortality” not “mortalness” but this is an occasion when poetic license is
    called in to help the flow and delight the sense of rhythm and balance between
    mortalness and colorless. I hope you agree with me, and let me get away with it:)

  2. menubar says:

    Nice one Karima – I enjoyed the music.

    As one door closes, another opens.

  3. Smiles.. thank you Menubar..and yes doors, upon doors, fling open if we are free, and close well the ones behind us.

  4. Sabre C says:

    The memory it lingers,
    the thoughts they remain,
    a time of love and a sad refrain,
    moments of passion snatched here and there,
    two hearts entwined without a care,
    your heart it is sacred,
    your skin soft to my touch,
    is brushed like a feather,
    is this too much,
    you shielded the poet,
    when you called his name,
    now my life will never be the same

    P.s Nice Poem
    Sabreman

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