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Four Thousand Four Hundred Miles
The shiny willows waved in yellow bloom
Inland beyond the spit of dirty sand
Where you and I stood, wishing we could zoom
Due east and pace that other treasured land
Across the broad Atlantic where the trees
Were lemons and their blossoms’ scent was rife.
All up the climbs of Positano bees
Were working on their promises of life.
A universe forever changed goes on,
My precious memories of you decay,
Fragments of happiness fly through the dawn,
And still I wonder what you felt that day
At Gateway Park, toeing the littered spit
A half a century ago. I dream of it.
.
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A Shift of Meaning
a villanelle
What wisdom’s dungeoned in that patient there
That we should bother with her failing heart?
The mystery of love’s what makes us care.
She came in on the gurney all but bare
And doesn’t speak. You won’t find on her chart
What wisdom’s dungeoned in that patient there.
She’s offed herself (She hopes!) in blind despair,
A choice we may not have the right to thwart.
The mystery of love’s what makes us care.
Let love unfold its hidden mines and share
The wealth with us. Let’s help love to impart
What wisdom’s dungeoned in that patient there.
A shot of adrenalin and then prepare
A jolt of joules. We have a pulse! A start!
The mystery of love’s what makes us care.
And there you have it. Love makes us aware
Of what’s troved even in a retching tart.
What wisdom’s dungeoned in that patient there?
The mystery of love’s what makes us care.
.
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Lionel Willis was born in Toronto in 1932. He has been a mosaic designer, portrait painter, watercolorist, biological illustrator, field entomologist and professor of English Literature as well as a poet. His verse has appeared in A Miscellany of Prints and Poems, The Canadian Forum, Candelabrum Poetry Magazine, Descant, Dream International Quarterly, Harp Strings Poetry Journal, Hrafnhoh, Iambs & Trochees, Light, Romantics Quarterly, The Classical Outlook, The Society of Classical Poets, The Deronda Review, The Eclectic Muse, The Fiddlehead, The Formalist, The Lyric, The Road Not Taken, Troubadour and White Wall Review, and in two books, The Dreamstone and Other Rhymes (The Plowman, 2003) and Heartscape, a Book of Bucolic Verse (EIDOLON, 2019).
Beautifully heartfelt poems that achieve their effect through subtlety of language and the use of understatement. In the first poem, expressions like “universe forever changed”, “precious memories” that “decay” and “fragments of happiness” convey in a powerful way the sense of loss and longing that linger in the speaker’s heart a half century later.
In the second poem, the imagery of buried treasure within the soul even of a “retching tart” expresses in a poignant manner that perception of intrinsic dignity and worth in every human being that, in the face of human failing, calls forth a response of altruistic love that “makes us care.” Thanks for sharing these.
Like Martin, I was particularly taken by the language in the sonnet, especially the three lines: ‘My precious memories of you decay, / Fragments of happiness fly through the dawn, /And still I wonder what you felt that day’.
Thanks for the reads, Lionel.
“bees / Were working on their promises of life.” “Fragments of happiness fly through the dawn.” Exquisite imagery and insight; universal thoughts expressed with great originality!
For me, “Four Thousand ..” has a haunting quality, even more so as I take in the photo while I read it; for there in the photo is a “dirty spit of sand”, “that other treasured land Across the broad Atlantic”, and the bowl of lemons. This is one of those poems I can read and re-read time and again. It’s obviously very personal for you, but it has universal appeal. Kudos. Love it.
Lionel, I love these poems. In “Four Thousand Four Hundred Miles”, distance and memory may fade… but dreams are forever and your words bring those dreams alive in beautiful images and fine poetry.
“A Shift of Meaning” hovers on the periphery of my full understanding… but, just as the repeating line says, “The mystery of love’s what makes us care”. Never mind who, when, or where… the mystery of love has the true power over everything. At least, that’s how I see it. Lionel, thank you!