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Droopy~Lento

Wilting am I like a flower in Fall

Quilting my blanket of sorrow

Tilting my focus away from joy

Lilting tones escape from the radio

~

Rejection has visited this tired old soul

Dejection my fated life’s call

Affection is the longing of my heart

Perfection desired is the cause of my fall

~~

© Carol Campbell 2015

The Prompt from: http://dversepoets.com/2015/10/29/open-link-night-158/#comment-102335 Is Melancholia. Thank you, Bjorn Rudberg

Published by: writersdream9

I have been writing all my life but for the most part, it has been a secret. My parents did not believe writing was a good way to earn money so I hid my poems. Then one day, I wanted to comment on an essay that a friend had written and found myself with a blog. That quiet whisper inside said, "You can write your poetry and no one will ever know.". I knew nothing of followers and the like at that time. So, here I am trying to learn my craft and enjoying every moment of it. My personal details are, I'm 57, married for 39 years, have one grown son who is God's gift to us and last but not least at all, I'm a Baha'i which basically means that I love all humanity.

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42 thoughts on “Droopy~Lento”

  2. Really enjoyed your word usage in this poem….and it all made sense! Smiles.
    I think a lot of people seek perfection until thy realize that it is not attainable in the end.
    I hope focus can tilt toward joy again soon.

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  4. I like your ‘sound association’ pictures: quilting, tilting, lilting and then the second stanza with rejection, dejection etc. It’s a great way to loosen up the mind and tongue and give rise to new poetic associations!

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  7. Its hard to find perfection in this life and one will surely be disappointed if one pursues it ~ I specially like this part:

    Affection is the longing of my heart

    Thanks for linking up with D\verse ~

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  9. each year we come out of our droopy days of fall to go into the dreary days of winter. seems like that’s all life is, some kind of death. but that changes too. then comes the spring…………….

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  18. Oh.. perfection.. the monster of human
    life that limits freedoms in all ways
    of life..
    A defense mechanism
    for fear of loss
    of some
    kind.. most
    often.. perhaps
    in my case.. a three
    year-old’s.. idol of father
    who leaves early
    to make
    more
    money..
    Anyway.. after five
    LonG decades.. i learn to
    treasure imperfection..
    a flake of vinyl siding
    paint falls off..
    i refuse to
    fix
    the cosmetic
    imperfection.. the same
    with scratches on car.. lovely
    scratches they are now.. as before
    i could worry over one small one
    an entire day..
    it’s in the brain..
    neurochemicals..
    S E R O T O N i N
    of trust in nature
    and comfort.. truly
    THE COMFORTER..
    of letting go..
    just flowing
    and somehow
    perfection comes
    back as practice
    and
    never goal..
    in Zen Art.. imperfectgion
    is practiced and honored
    as is..
    to grow a soul
    without limits
    or expectations now..
    smiles my friend.. and
    best wishes in growing
    free.. as Living Tree
    never worrying
    over
    fall
    leaves..
    Winter BliSs
    iS posSiBle..:)

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  19. I like this poem, mostly because of the rhyme scheme, and the lyrical tempo. The last two lines give it meaning, for me:

    Affection is the longing of my heart
    Perfection desired is the cause of my fall

    Nice work! Lupita (www.NotEnoughPoetry.com)

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