"An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write" (Part Twelve): A Promise in a Poem

An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write


Girl | Girl I | Girl II | Girl III | Girl IV | Girl V | Girl VI | Girl VII | Girl VIII | Girl IX | Girl X | Girl XI


she was a poem
she was hidden in a ring
she was
never a thought
I could not have
a memory locked away
in whisky and drunken words
a thought
a promise


For months on end, I spend days counting down the nights. Stars in the sky, drunken words, only time will tell when I can see her again. It has been a month or so since she has gone, but it feels like years.

I am left to ferment in my own thoughts, in loneliness.

In any case, as I like to so, loneliness cultivates poetry. Today I want to share with you some photographs I took of @urban.scout and a poem I wrote to capture our promise. I hope you enjoy it. Without further ado!

An Ode to the Girl Who I Could Never Write

she was a promise
I could never keep
the words sweet
but temptation took over
the words I wrote
whilst a never-ending source
of desire rained down
on me

she was a poem
of desire
of words that filled
the night sky with stars
she was words
that never moved
but drunken movements
somehow made sense

contained in her touch
a promise would reside
only if
for a moment's pleasure
to remember the words
of the promise

breathe into me
a declaration
of all that must come
before that was
a promise
of desire

she was a poem
she was hidden in a ring
she was
never a thought
that the promise could not keep
for a moment to spare
like a flower in despair
she had no hope of remorse

but for a moment
the light came to shine
on a ring
on a promise to make

shining to say
that the stars will shine again tonight
when the moon
will keep the promise afloat

she was a poem
she was hidden in a ring
she was
desire in a thing of beauty
covered in rain
that might sprout the flower
of our desire

but for now
in a moments breath
a death declared
in my demise
as a promise
shrouded in decadence
covered with shame

she was a promise
hidden in a ring
she was
whisky and drunken words
veiled in a pledge
a vow of sobriety

Postscriptum, or A Promise Ring

Funny thing, I bought her a ring as a present, but when she looked at it she saw the promise (see the photograph above). I did not see it beforehand but is that not how life should be, perchance, arbitrary, happenstance? Unplanned is the way to go.

In any case, I hope you like the photographs and the poem. All of the photographs are my own, taken with my old trusty Nikon D300 and Tamron 300mm zoom lens and 18-70mm lens. The poem is also my own creation. Happy photographing, and stay safe!

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