Bruised Potpourri


Whilst I tear petals from these dried roses,

I contemplate your choice, what will it be?

I sit in the weeds, and wait through the memories

Maybe all alone is where I belong

Through the dim glass, pointed towards the future,

I peer again, but never can make it out

It’s easier to speak in the darkness, in ink

But my fingers itch for the light, the peace

But I know I will always stay here, sighing

I conjecture, what else I can do

As I caress, pluck, crush these dead petals

And lay the remains on the piano lid 

Copyright © Bethany Richardson 2012


16 thoughts on “Bruised Potpourri

  1. Pawan Hira (awakeningpsyche) says:

    Such a poignant piece..loved it….balancing sides of life….a beauty….:)

  2. thirdplan8 says:

    This is wonderful!!!

  3. mysterygirrl says:

    wow this is beautiful! i loved the way you have explained the details about life and connected them altogether! I also loved the words that you have mentioned right above “paper is dead without words and ink idle without poem” LOVED IT!

    • Bethany says:

      Thank you, Madhvi, for your sweet comment! That line is from one of my favorite songs. I think it beautifully portrays the life of a written word. Thanks again for visiting my blog! : )

  4. Bluesander says:

    The tiny slips of darkness…enthralling.
    What beautiful imagery you paint!

  5. Ayasonice says:

    I saw this come in today and soooo wanted to tell you how deep I think it is but the silly phone doesn’t do too well with WP. Hmm, girl you never cease to amaze me! You take me to wonderland and back. I LOVE it! 😀

  6. Another fantastic piece…I’m really blown away by your poetry & the depth expressed therein. Here are my fave lines: (though it was really hard to choose just a few as “faves”)

    “It’s easier to speak in the darkness, in ink

    But my fingers itch for the light, the peace”

  7. poddys says:

    Excellent work.

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