The Road Untravelled


He finds a grim melancholy
Discovering in her letters
Poets he has not even heard of
Whose mastery leaves him breathless

She takes him into her confidence
Sharing day-to-day trivia
Which reminds him others see her
More clearly than he will ever do

He recalls that trip to London
The Underground escalator
Hair flying away on the updraught
Discussing the meanings of God

He learns in time to live without
Metropolitan temptations
Finally laid aside for good
Flowers, trees, silent witnesses

The verities of sun and rain
A gardener is never tired
Birds sing even in leafless trees
He wonders what airs she breathes this day

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on July 6, 2012, in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. This sent me tumbling back to memories of my own lost loves. The sting is still there. Enjoyed this Ben..thank you for sharing it. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • I am glad you appreciated it.

      I came across some long discarded writing and awarded it a temporary reprieve, as it seemed there were bits of it that were OK, although I wasn’t at all happy with the finished article. Since then it’s been sitting around on my desk for weeks. And now I have finally salvaged, remodelled and refitted it to my satisfaction. Quite different from what it was originally, but very much improved. (IMHO anyway. 😀 )


  2. Oh Ben, I totally resonate with this – those old memories of certain special persons I once knew so well – the conversations, the poignancy… You’ve expressed it so well, and so personally that it took me right back!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I still love the poem. (Enjoyed reading it again just now…)

    Liked by 1 person

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