We never went to Paris
The French cafe around the corner
Was the closest we ever
Came to foreign skies.
For my birthday you bought me
A key chain of the Eiffel tower,
A promise more incredulous than a ring.
When one is in love everything
Is so poignant and precious.
A daydream is more real
Than the caricatures one favors
In their everyday life.
–
When one is in love greatness is possible.
A violin cradled may as well be a heart
For does it not contain the same sweet music?
How improbable our love, how immense.
I thought and still think that it will never end.
You left for reasons I cannot fathom.
I never knew shackles like these
When we were together, this loss so like banishment.
I thought we were more than this that our love
Above all others held a place in the heavens.
–
I hate you a little less each day.
Memories may fail when spoken
But they remain even in death.
When I find you missing my eyes well up.
I am the universe unfinished,
A fracture walled off and forgotten.
How can I entertain your cruelty
When I saw no inkling of it?
If only you had been, in some small way,
Then may be I could arrest my feelings.
–
For the sake of the other challenge I had to add an extra image which changed the direction of my poem.
Public Domain Pictures
mindlovemisery 
I love the last stanza
Thank you XD
This is so good in many ways, including sad–how true that being in love completely distorts our reality, eclipsed by dreams of everything impossible being ours to hold/own.
Thank you, it can indeed sometimes for the better, sometimes in giving us hope. I do not think I would be here today if not for love. Sometimes of course the illusions can be dangerous as well
Beautifully penned. Raw and real which you are so gifted in painting for us.
Thank you Oliana that means a lot!
I love how this tells the tale of the way love affects and distorts reality – both in positive and negative ways. “I hate you a little less each day…” is a great line.
Thank you Lisa for your kind and thoughtful words =)
I like how you round this out, from the magic of the initial love to the grief and anger of separation…..this was a great collage to play with and I’m glad you are going to continue with them….
Thank you Michael I am glad you like them, though they do take some time to make I find it relieves stress. If you have any quote suggestions please send
A violin cradled may as well be a heart
For does it not contain the same sweet music?
Ohhh what lines you fashion in words that create images that astound and surprise and resound long after the last notes are played …
Another exceptional poem Yves 🙂
Wow Pat thank you for your generous compliment =) WP is giving me a hard time but know that I like this comment very much as well lol
you’re welcome …. yes WP is being a bit temperamental … or perhaps that should be temper and mental standing alone …. this a.m. here …. your afternoon ….. the ghostly goblins and gremlins at early play 😉
lol!
One can only imagine if the loss was premeditated or one of an unexpected illness or accident.
I often felt that when my father died… that he took the easy way out of having to fulfill his responsibilities. But one cannot predict the future.
We can however change how we react to it.
That’s so true Jules