My Irish rose.

Do you remember me, my Irish rose?
A fleeting thought would lift my spirits so
And when it comes the time the book to close
My wish, some thoughts I would of you to know.

Silent is the wind of memories
Ever blowing through my restless dreams
A cavalcade of vivid tapestries
With threads of pain wove within their seams.

This one is afire with passions flame
Burning as it seared its imprint deep
That virgin flower, its petals devoid shame
You gave to me as mine to ever keep.

This one is awash with color bright
Two lovers standing looking out to sea
Your face so happy then was my delight
For I knew, my cup was full with love for thee.

And this one, I fear, often makes me cry
Its pathos deep immersed in shades of blue
It concerns that desolate night I said goodbye
For I know, I shall never find a love like you.

And so my Irish rose I bid you well
You were indeed a rose beyond compare
And would I could, my story to retell
My garden I would tend with better care.
Brendan.





Poetry by Brendan Finbarr Tully
Read 586 times
Written on 2006-02-23 at 00:01

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Zoya Zaidi
"Silent is the wind of memories
Ever blowing through my restless dreams
A cavalcade of vivid tapestries
With threads of pain wove within their seams. "

Hi daer Branden,
Your texts always fill me with a feeling,
All at once,elating, sad and bright!
Elating, 'cause they are divine!
Sad, 'cause they stir a chord somewhere deep down the revine,
Of memeory, experience, indefined!
Bright. 'cause, hidden behind your text is always,
A SPIRIT INDOMINITABLY, BRIGHT,full of fight!

((((HUGS DAER BRENDEN,
FOR THIS SPIRIT FINE)))))

lOVE, XXX, Zoya
2006-02-23