Poetry 013: The Sphinx

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The Sphinx

My somewhat ancient scrolls,
Like these ancient sculptures growl
Of a time long forgotten,
Yearning to be remembered
And learning un-regret.

The rotting memories,
Like these old stones fight the fading
Sunlight, lingering only
To haunt my spring time dreams.

Trapped amid the ebbing tides
And the steadily disappearing cliffs,
My words fade, floating unanchored
On the cool sea-breeze,
With tales of hearts once whispered in
And subtly whistled out,
Like fleeting breath from wrinkled lips
Slithering out of my salty tongue
They sail the wind like
Sweetened summer rain mid autumn.
Veiling the bones of untold follies
Fleshed by the jittering joys of yesteryear.

Seeing the bar’s wake,
My tears, dammed,
Leave my burned eyes
to welcome the weight
That sags the willow’s branches:
The coarse sands that erode the sphinx,
The thirst unquenched by youth,
And the winds that quietly, and slowly,
Lift me toward the estuary.

© Denis Adide 2010

 

 

Musing on The Sphinx

This was a poem about old age inspired by Lord Tennyson’s Crossing the Bar. It speaks of hope and loss; peace and sorrow.

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