Like a sculptor moulds his clay
I have travelled worlds or words
in search of splendid justice.
But when I’m blinded to your smile
or deaf to your lost laugh,
could it ever be enough?
I feel the memories that flee,
trickling like gold dust
but I’ll chase that bittersweet mirage.
For though the stars we see are dead
their beauty still shines bright,
so too I’ll document this pain for you.
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I’m blown away by the emotional impact of this one. I love the way you combine contrasting tones – the hope and loss; the pain and beauty. Excellent work, Callum 🙂
That really means a lot, Mel. Thank you so much! 🙂
My pleasure 😀
I agree with Mel. This one has real impact, Callum. Well done. (Except of course, you Brits can’t spell worth diddly! Everyone knows it’s “MOLD!!” *snort*)
Thank you, Marcia 🙂
You know, it’s funny, I’ve been thinking a lot recently about how many Americans may read British spellings in my poems/posts and think they’re typos. Language is a funny old thing, isn’t it?! 🙂
It is, indeed. And a powerful old thing, too. But if anyone who reads poetry (or much of anything else, really) doesn’t know by now that we Americans changed the spelling of YOUR words quite a bit, then they’ll just have to muddle through it all the best they can, right? 😀 Gray/grey, color/colour, center/centre…they’ll figure it out, eventually. Maybe. 😀
I guess they didn’t want to make things easy for themselves! 😉
Yeah, you’d think they’d have left perfectly good words alone. Of course, in most cases, they’ve shortened them a bit. Maybe they were just lazy? 😀
Beautiful.
Thank you very much.
My pleasure. Credit where it is due my friend.