大象传媒

These are connected to the story at a1490129.

This is a sonnet I wrote to my girlfriend whilst I was away fighting.

Sonnet To Margaret.
If eyes could traverse space as does the heart,
or hands could reach a touch the heart's intents,reduced to limits of the human sense
The world's expanses, fingertips apart;
If we could take an evening out of time and hold it, sempiternal, as our own
Stolen from time, and yet to time unknown:
Then life had reached it's pinnacle sublime.
But space is in fact measured in mountains
Hard to climb, not encompassed just by will;
Time is as water, gushing from fountains for none to steal a drop, or drink his fill.
So silent thoughts must be our hands and eyes,
Whilst time, that harsh divider, love defies.

Winter 1944.
Roses sprout in the snow and fade,
Shedding petals of oblivion,
their petals of met-met-metal
yearning to touch the admirers heart.

See, he finds one, and grasping it
lies, sobbing appreciation
in the ecstacy of a scream.

Now mind and body are as one;
the face shows it in its greyness;
the eyes show it in their stillness;
and the body in the petals discovery
spells it's gratitude in sunset red,
and is still.

Uncover to me your secret.
Release me from this alf-life;
let me read your wordless philosophy
scrawled in simple letters in the flesh.

I do not wish to hear the woodchat working,
or unborn birds rustling forgotten leaves.
I am tired of false springtimes,
And I need no

H.E Lumb.

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