A number poem about being seventeen:
Seventeen is such a lovely age,
Ever on the edge of something new!
Vested in a multitude of plans,
Even as the calendar commands.
No choice has yet been made that one need rue,
Though soon, perhaps too soon, time turns the page.
Even at this sweet rehearsal stage,
Each must reduce the many to the few,
Needing dreams to comb through tangled strands.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Audio and Video Music: Lifting Dreams. By Aakash Gandhi.
Music free to use at YouTube.
A love poem about a new romance:
To love is to be naked to the wind,
Holding hands with someone you can’t know.
Invested in a bond that seems secure,
Resisting what seems graceless and less sure,
Trusting in a gift none can bestow,
You turn to one and leave the rest behind.
Nothing is more beautiful or pure,
Innocent, quixotic, gentle, kind.
Nor have you any hint how it will go
Except a will that this romance endure.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Audio and Video Music: Forever Yours. By Wayne Jones. Music
free to use at YouTube.
A poem, never sent, from a mother to a child whom she was forced to surrender:
My heart is like a symphony
That sings of only pain.
Of all that makes a life worthwhile,
Only you remain.
Only in the thought of you
Safe and cared for well
Can I find happiness within
My self-inflicted hell.
Only in my love for you
Is there sufficient grace
For me to want to live at all
In this forsaken place.
Ah, God! Were life not beautiful
And love not full of light,
I could, perhaps, embrace the rage
Of an embittered night.
But as it is, I cannot help
But hope for what might be:
That though I gave you up, you might
Someday, somehow love me.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Audio and Video Music: E Minor Prelude. By Frederic Chopin.
Music free to use at YouTube.
A Bastille Day poem about the dangers of allowing
inequalities between classes to grow too wide:
Beware of inequalities too wide
And chasms that cannot be bridged by dreams.
Societies fray first along the seams,
Then rip apart, exposing rot inside.
In chaos hopes for liberty abide;
Life in its Edenic newness gleams;
Longing is more brutal than it seems;
Ecstatic demons 'cross the wastelands glide.
Do, then, recall the day of the Bastille
As one whose burst of glory would reveal
Yearnings that would stain the turning tide.
© by Nicholas Gordon
Audio and Video Music: Bittersweet. By SYBS. Music free to
use at YouTube.
To see this poem on my site, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/bewar2.html.
For more Bastille Day poems, go to https://www.poemsforfree.com/bastilledaypoems.html
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