Until I Stopped
written by: Stanley Wilkin
Don’t come back,
It’s the end.
Like sunshine after winter
When flowers bud into passion
And trees spurt plump green leaves
And reach out to grasp the air with spiralling branches
Reeking of Spring.
The smell of beech and pine
The sycamore with its mature palette,
Oil seeping from its pores,
Plunged into the morning air.
A full dinner after starvation,
Every choice bit of meat, each piece of fruit,
Each added spice, succulent flavours on the unseeking tongue,
Scented tea, rosemary, sharpest coffee
Choice wine and spirits,
Burning whiskey like a gorgeous sluice,
Brandy enflaming soul.
Oh yes, I loved you.
Lettuce and pomegranate in a bowl
Covered with cream,
Sprinkled with saffron, yes,
You completed my appetite
The certain substance of unapparelled tastes
Sharpened and refined,
Your hair smelling of moonlight,
Skin lantern light and morning mist.
I loved you that much,
I loved you until you stopped loving me.
That’s the way it is.
Once you turned away, I did too.
You were my spun gold, my loveliest song, my crystal of many colours,
My favourite laugh and most complete storyteller,
My best revealer of words,
Your tingling laughter embossed with fire
Picked and tinged with a million fire flies
Defining the night.
You were my poem,
Of a thousand succulent words
And chiming notes,
Juice primed adjectives of love and pleasure.
Entranced by your footfall, your outstretched limbs,
Scheduled to dance,
The bringer of songs,
The maker of rhythms
And caster of rhymes,
The giver of life.
And, so, I loved you
Until you stopped loving me.
- Until I Stopped - April 23, 2025
- Going, Going Insane. Gone! - January 5, 2025
- The Traveller From an Antique Land - September 5, 2024
