Thursday, 9 April 2015

Love on Call OR Flight of the Bluebird


This poem was inspired by a growing interest in memorial woodlands since attending a funeral service at one some time ago. Hopefully, it will be read as it was written, in inspirational not morbid mode.

Someone once told me that love is the dare only a fool will refuse. Well, not everyone will accept a dare, and that doesn’t make him or her a fool, but when it is love - whatever our colour, creed, sex or sexuality - the chances are we risk a lifetime of regret by walking away.

The same person told me the Bluebird of Happiness is just a dream, but how like all the best dreams, we would do well to spot it if we can, and be thus  inspired to keep the memory alive evermore...

LOVE ON CALL or FLIGHT OF THE BLUEBIRD

There are woodlands where I go
whenever life finds me feeling low;
I have but pause beneath a tree,
see its branches shape our history
for letting the Bluebird of Happiness
work its magic on me

I feel the pull of Memory Lane
to peace of mind, away from pain;
among the lines in your fair face,
subtle comforts of a warm embrace,
the finest poems of earth and sky
recalling the love we dared, you and I,
young and impatient (even grown)
anxious to be seen wearing its crown
where bluebirds in twilight’s lace
perform evergreen images of grace

Though winter bite, nature rest,
in love and renewal we dare trust,
have but to pause beneath a tree,
see its branches shape our history
for letting the Bluebird of Happiness
work its magic on us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2015

[Note: Revised (2015) from an earlier version that first appeared in an anthology, Thoughts and Reflections for Throughout the Year, Forward Press, 2009 and subsequently in 1st eds. of On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010; revised edition in e-format in preparation.]


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