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    Parker Owens
  • Parker Owens
  • Author
  • 07/31/2017
  • 297 Words
  • 2,125 Views
  • 25 Comments
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Occasional Poetry - 73. Eulogy

This is meant to be a Sestina: a poetic form that evolved from the time of the troubadours. It has 39 lines, and complex interlocking scheme of end words to each line. Skinnydragon originally introduced me to this form. This one is written for my Mom, who recently passed away. I know she would forgive me for my mistakes. Perhaps you will, too.

Eulogy

You always were both person and a place
where everything felt absolutely right;
as long as we were sitting face to face,
the world beheld within your smile's embrace,
we scintillated in that golden light
surrounding those you'd chosen to invite.

And everyone was to your heart invite,
no person in your home was out of place
where conversation affable and light
made welcome all who sat at left or right,
as long as they good humor would embrace,
for ever did you prize a laughing face.

So with a cheerful courage did you face
the host of ills grey aging must invite,
and optimistic hope did you embrace,
lest ashen apprehension take its place,
a spot to which such evils had no right,
as from your countenance they'd steal the light.

I reckon now the fuse was set to light
that blast upon your temple's southern face
in springtime, with the weather coming right,
when birds of every feather must invite
another of their species make a place
to bill and coo and haste unto embrace.

Instead of greening, groaning did embrace
your frame beneath a surgeon's brilliant light,
and though he put your bones back into place,
I feared how illness dared to change your face:
it to your ancient structure did invite
collapse, catastrophe, upon the right.

And now you lie ensconced in angles right,
a world of dust and ash must you embrace;
yet if I could your spirit still invite,
your smile again my sun and moon will light,
and with full brimming heart, the world I'll face,
with everything uncertain now in place.

Come wrong, come right, no matter time or place,
embrace the Sisyphean tasks we face,
as we invite your love, your joy, your light.

Comment or complain here, just as you like. I will be grateful no matter what.
Copyright © 2017 Parker Owens; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 13
Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Parker Owens
43 minutes ago, Mikiesboy said:

It is beautiful and moving. I'm sure she would have loved it, Parker.  I look at it with my poet's eye and the rhyming pattern is complicated but it feel effortless. You've done a wonderful job Parker. xo

 

Thank you, tim. My own mathematical eye had trouble discerning the pattern of end words at first. Eventually things seemed to click. Mom would probably have blushed and laughed - more than anything, it is the sound of laughter that still rings in my head. 

  • Like 2
Parker Owens
13 hours ago, AC Benus said:

Oh, Parker, it's heartbreaking and beautiful. Beautiful tribute to a remarkable woman, and you even managed to post it on a special day for @skinnydragon - his birthday.

 

All the best to you, and just know, she was proud - still is. <3  

 

I am glad you think it beautiful. As I said to tim, it is the sound of Mom's laughter and amusement I still hear echoing in my mind. Joy was her companion, I think. And it was a pure delight to post this on Skinny's birthday. He was so pleased to show me this form. 

  • Like 1
Parker Owens
13 hours ago, Headstall said:

I read most of it through tears, Parker. All the superlatives won't do it justice. Thank you for letting me see her in this... thank you for letting me see you :heart: You should be proud, for many reasons... xoxo

 

I am glad you got to meet Mom in this poem. It was her delight in other people that marked her life. Thank you for your lovely comments and support. 

  • Like 1
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