Triste, Triste Comments

" Darkness of sleep and love" . A superb conceptualization. Well deserved modern poem of the day.

Darkness of sleep and love cries in prison but spirit awakens towards light of joy. Remembering the promise of paradise, the hammer remembers you. With love, peace, sleep and deepness, spirit walks to Easter light. A great poem is excellently penned and we feel the light inside. This poem has deep philosophy. A nice modern poem of the day is chosen, which is very heart touching!

A well chosen and well written Poem of the Day from the late great Gwen Harwood. And there are echoes in her poems of the late great Ella Wheeler Wilcox.

'I was with you in agony. Remember your promise of paradise, ' and hammers and hammers, 'remember me.' In the space between love and sleep. very fine poem. tony

Beautifully spirit walks to Easter light. This poem is very interestingly written and this is a nice poem of the day.

" The fallen instruments of its passion lie in the relic" A spirit no longer with its body. This is a beautiful poem

Some time in our dreams that promise of paradise is fulfilled if our hearts too rise with the grear spirit. Beautiful poem.

Triste is a Latin word meaning sorrow. The disappointment of unfulfilled feelings of love are perfectly described. Truly beautifully depicted.

'I was with you in agony. Remember your promise of paradise, '..../// yeah really that's a great poetic expression

WOW! ! ! ! very beautiful!

And heart from its prison cries to the spirit walking above: 'I was with you in agony. Remember your promise of paradise, '- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - that is an awesome piece of writing

Remember your promise of paradise; and hammers and hammers, remember me. Nice write. Thanks for sharing.

Christian imagery - rolls back like a stone, tomb, Easter light - suggests a longing for spiritual life, freedom from the emotions that hold the poet hostage. The body becomes a relic; love and life are portrayed as darkness. The poet is sad, sad because her heart, her voice can only call out to that transcendent state.

what an imagination of demise, love & heart.wonderful poem

Walking alone! ! With the muse of life. Thanks for sharing.