Theme Thursday: WATER

A lot of the Blogger-bloggers who link to Theme Thursday are poets. Therefore, although most of my recent writings consist of prose works, I decided to resurrect a thirty-year-old poem entitled "A Summer's End." Something decidedly different for me, even then... but it fits the "WATER" theme in two ways: The story takes place on a cliff overlooking the ocean, and a summer thunderstorm begins and increases in intensity, mirroring my characters' conversation.

(And in all honesty, I must admit to a few editorial "tweaks.")

* * * * *

A Summer's End
A summer's day, so fine and fair,
Brought summer's eve, so warm.
The moon was shining through her hair.
No hint of coming storm.

The day'd been spent eventfully.
New vistas had been sought.
I showed her what she meant to me
And spoke my inner thoughts.

She told me "I've found peace with you.
You mellow out my life."
I answered "Dear, I've thought things through.
I want you as my wife."

She smiled but firmly shook her head,
Which puzzled me a lot,
Until she softly, gently said,
"Let's not ruin what we've got."

The summer moon its dom'nance took
And siphoned off the day.
She climbed the rocky overlook
To view the ocean spray.

On this high cliff she took my hand.
The sea raged far below.
She begged "Please, darling, understand.
I care for you, you know!

"It's just that marriage is passé,
An out-of-date-ideal."
Light rain began, and all I said
Was "No, it's not. It's real."

"You wonderful romanticist,"
She cooed, to keep things light.
But I could not adjust to this.
I knew that I was right.

The summer rain beat harder now;
The ocean sprayed its foam.
I kept the argument alive,
Refused to take her home...

"It's not how I would live," she said.
I said "I'll ask again..."
"You're asking something I can't give!"
"Don't say you can't. You can."

She searched for words, then found the sea.
"Dear, watch the waves withdraw.
They love to touch the shore, like me,
But freedom is their law.

"They need not stay upon the sand
To smooth it free from scars."
I shrugged those words off. "Take my hand!
What's mine may yet be ours."

The summer storm, a tempest spread,
Almost drowned out her plea.
"You haven't heard a word I've said!
How stubborn can you be?"

The storm's force ruled my actions then,
Heart pounding like the waves.
With sorrow for what might have been,
I knew no hope was saved.

I turned and left her, boldly.
Shocked, she never said a word
As I strode away so coldly.
Rain and surf were all I heard.

But swift remorse came; back I looked,
To straighten out this mess...

But she had jumped.

Her life she took.

She did love me...

I guess.

* * * * *

Mm. Cheerful.

By the way, long-time readers of my blogs will recall my running joke that every time I wonder "Hey, whatever happened to So-and-So? Haven't heard anything about him (or her) lately," the person in question either does something newsworthy shortly thereafter... or dies.

Anybody remember my lame joke about Bea Arthur on April 11th?

Yup. Killed another one.

Thanks for your time.