'tis usually around this time of year
that lonely hearts begin to sing,
sing songs of loneliness of course,
a tune that I had been so familiar with...
but, this year,
this very year,
I shall not partake in humming the melody accompanied by this
"Lonely hearts club".
you see, I now know what it is to live.
to be of the world, yes,
and I have learnt to never run away from life,
or from love either.
I have gained an endless amount of compassion,
to keep me company during days of
war and brooding and fury.
my mind flows to the gentle sounds of each syllable
that leaves the mouth of the one I call "Marmee"
hums delicately to us every night.
and then, the divine young gentleman comes to mind,
the gentlemen that will dance with me through
windy afternoons, sunny days, stormy nights,
through flamboyant leaves, an overgrown lawn, and even on ice, as cold as a fire-less hearth.
my mind turns to the smell of fresh flowers, a damp pavement,
the faint sounds of heels scuttling across the hard concrete floor, and giggles from three of the most radiant, most picturesque young women I have ever laid eyes upon,
all of these things,
remind me of home.
as of now I am wrapped in a cozy blanket to keep me warm, and I am surrounded by an army of arms, as the ones I love come close to see what I'm writing.
and these people, that care so much about me,
are the reason why
I shall never be lonely again.
// authors note: this is from Amy March's point of view from the BBC show Little Women!
YOU ARE READING
poems from my journal ✨🍂
Poetryhere's a collection of the short poem sort of things I write for my journal! if they're based on another persons point of view I'll make sure to state that in the title :D
