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Poem by E M Solomons
The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
(c) E M Solomons
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2. |
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Poem by E M Solomons
The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
(c) E M Solomons
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The first light comes,
touching the sleeping mind,
stroking the head,
confirming who it is.
Colours prick through the window pane,
with silent customary tread.
Pale light from Palestine and Java
leans over the bed and spreads.
Grey light reluctant to leave China
powders the glass deepens its image
as you come close.
Yellow light strokes the window pane,
sombre light stains the human comedy
sprawled on the bed.
And then the watching soul
immanent, anxious says
"All is still well.
The substance of our days is whole.
"No greater pain exists
than to feel pain no more,
with the soul helpless
before locked doors.
"Alas Time will arrive,
and death deprive.
"Meanwhile take I delight
flattering his form
guessing his contour
beneath the sheets;
sensing his blood seeking complexity,
feeling his hands fleeting,
stirred by some dream;
leaving no trace
in Time or Space.
"Let me think no more thoughts
for fear he may wake.
"Let me be quieter
than the leaf that grows.
Or the rose."
(c) Stanley Nicholls Solomons
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4. |
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The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
(c) E M Solomons
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5. |
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The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
(c) E M Solomons
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6. |
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The pale gold light
creeps into my silent room
touching my face
I know that you are here.
Softly contours form
as the colours
take the place of grey
Translucent gold hits the mirror
and reaches my lonely bed.
Dispels the grey mist which lingers
on the window pane
Deepens the image and I see you.
Pale blond light
where your hair once shone.
Lonely shadow of my former self
I languish here.
But then your dear voice calls with comfort, love
and says
"I have not left,
while your fond memories remain."
I think of you and
you are here
beside and within
Your image fades
but you are still here in me.
You must you must come back
if only at dawn.
See through the tears of gold,
you are here once more
Your ghostly presence
fills my poor heart,
searching my mind
once more to be as one,
here is your body
so close to my own
in this spectral world
we share our thoughts.
My soul now quiet at last
my yearnings on hold.
The golden glow brings me peace
and I might face another day
(c) E M Solomons
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David Warin Solomons, Budapest Scoring, Betti Nagy, Laszlo Demeter, Zoltan Pad, Alessandro Balsimini, Stephen Taylor, Jonathan Leonard
