Groom’s Tale

MantraIn keeping with poetry which comes from a perspective other than that of my own or Mantra’s, this poem is not the typical M3 slice of life, but does bring life squarely into focus.

Marriage has been something we have discussed in great detail on M3. We have looked into where the hairline fractures are which become earthquake cracks. We have looked into compatibility. Now, let’s look into the everyday as the days turn to years, turn to decades.

More than a few people consider the everyday of married life to be a task through which sleeping is possible, plausible and preferable. Sleeping is the story of a groom over the course of his marriage. As you read, think about who is really sleeping.

Sleeping

You stepped lightly across the threshold,
Being careful not to snag the train
In the lock of the bedroom door knob.
Gently perching your bride on the foot
Of the bed you two would henceforth share
In the house you built for more than two.
In the quiet witching hour, you watched
The peaceful rise and fall of sleep’s breath
Caressing the heart beating for you.

A pet to nurture instincts before
You began the family you knew
You had dreamt for these rooms and your bride.
Time arrives for the fevered drive that night
To the hospital for your first born.
Watching the crib, smilingly sleepless,
Brimming with pride, you looked back at her,
Brushed a hair from her brow, so gently
In her dream, was love’s tender caress.

Two more identical nights would pass
Bringing smiling babies to your world.
She dreamt in her same peaceful slumber,
After such good, hard work was all through.
Years drift away, the children scattered.
Awakened beside her, you look on,
Her eyes dancing beneath heavy lids.
You wonder what you are doing there
In the fantasy world, two as one.

The grandchildren came and played today.
Cupcakes and brownies, the kitchen wrecked.
Giggles and laughter echoed, again
Through the halls where yours played long ago.
Now, snuggled on the couch, you cover
Her with her favorite soft blanket.
She sighs softly as she pulls it up
Beneath the smile. She’s sweetly dreaming.
Memories old and just made are set

Soft lids closed in restful repose...

In the perfection of reverie.
Today, you wake and look for the smile,
Dreaming of the love-kissed yesteryears.
Yet, her eyes do not flutter behind
Soft lids closed in restful repose and
There’s no rise and fall in her chest.
You’ve shared your last dream here together.
When you walk through the door,  it’s alone.
Her dreaming heart is truly at rest.

080520120300
(c) Ann Marie Dwyer


~~~~~~~~~~

What is the significance of her sleeping? What does he miss when he sees her sleep? Are you or do you know someone sleeping through the everyday of marriage? What does this poem make you feel?

(c) Ann Marie Dwyer 2012
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18 Comments

  1. For some reason I cannot leave comment at the post itself… keeps asking me if I am a spammer. But here’s me take on the poem, if I may:

    I take this poem another way, I guess. And first, I find it so very touching, and bittersweet at the end, since he is quite obviously watching her “final” rest (death). I find no “missing” or diminishment of time, here… only additive. In the sense that, he is watching her even after the days filled with lovely and mundane and significant events turning into memories of a lifetime of love together.

    He touches her in her sleep, looks at her. It is a romantic man’s pervue to catch his beloved asleep… to be holding her safe in that place where she is most vulnerable, and grab even a few extra moment, when he must be tired as well, to gaze at her loveliness.

    I am likely biased, but I suppose I take this poem more literally in that sense, not a metaphorical “sleeping through the marriage” … or through a life… Their life together seems quite full and quite beautiful to me…

    And even at the very end, he is a gentleman… and reminds me a of a saying from Pooh, that my own beloved has used in our loving exchanges… together forever… but minus one day, because I do not want to miss you… as she says.

    Ladies first. It’s the gentleman’s… and the loving romantic’s… way of doing things.

    This poem made me cry, actually… touching and hopeful tears of pride and my own longing.

    Thanks for it.

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 12, 2012

      You have to check the box which says you are not a spammer…I need to go to FB and import the rest of your comment.

      I love what you got out of it. There is a beauty to the surface of the poem. Yes, their lives were full. He always saw in her the woman he fell in love with, not what time brings us to in the end. So very glad this touched you.

      Reply
  2. Where was she when he was watching and dreaming? It seems she was only there as an extension, his dream. Much loved, yes perhaps but nonetheless, not whole and complete.

    It is very beautiful, touching but haunting also.
    valentinelogar recently posted..Zaftig in a MirrorMy Profile

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 12, 2012

      I like what you got out of it. Very different from some other reactions.

      Reply
  3. I think it’s a lovely poem. It makes me think about how sweet a happy marriage could be – and feel a bit wistful!
    Rose recently posted..What would you do if you woke up and you were a cockroach?My Profile

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 13, 2012

      Welcome, Rose. Yes, it does have a wistful quality to it. Be sure to leave a link to your blog in the Green Room. You will find the links to some of the best blogs in the blogosphere there. Glad this one touched you.

      Reply
  4. This one has me weeping.

    Yeah, I know, soft sod!!! 🙂

    When we sleep we are at our most defenseless and in peace we are at our most beautiful.

    Loved this one hun!!!

    Prenin.

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 13, 2012

      Tears are no sign of weakness. I am glad this one touched you, Pren. I like your assessment. It is so very true. {HUGZ} Red.

      Reply
  5. Red, this poem is beautiful, full of the intricate details of lives shared, the wonderful beauty, the rhythm of life itself in a solid, lifelong relationship –the peace, love, and inevitable sadness in the dance of life. Life is so very short. We must remember to enjoy every moment. ~R
    Raymond Alexander Kukkee recently posted..The Intruder: What’s This?My Profile

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    • Red

       /  May 13, 2012

      That is one of my mantras. The road is long. Enjoy the scenery. The trip is short. Do not dawdle in enjoying it.

      Reply
  6. Bear

     /  May 13, 2012

    Life is so short after all. One morning you wake up and find something missing…the one you love most.

    Reply
  7. I will have to call by here on the morrow / later today and add something on this fine offering.

    Do have a really nice rest of your Mothers Day Red and be very well my great friend 🙂

    Androgoth XXx

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 13, 2012

      I have a sneaking suspicion you will have a mouthful to say about this one.

      Reply
  8. I agree with the doctor. Beautiful tear jerker.
    Angela Young recently posted..Um, “Happy” Mother’s Day–Part IIMy Profile

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 14, 2012

      I am grateful this has stirred powerful emotions, Angie. I did not mean to make everyone cry, but I did mean for it to touch.

      Reply
  9. I think that an earlier comment by Doctor Michael Burgess Jr has encompassed the actual meaning behind this brilliant poem of yours Red.

    It illustrates a life of love, bonded through the beginning of a dream to a finale of fulfilment and so bringing a life together full circle, demonstrated by a genuine sensation that is filled with pure emotions.

    A beautiful time shared and surrounded with affectionate feelings, energies that only through her passing eclipses his inner weaknesses, now alone he has to endure life without his true love by his side but with warmth of knowing that she will be with him in heart and mind forever.

    A truly delightful poem Red 🙂

    Androgoth XXx

    Reply
    • Red

       /  May 14, 2012

      I like your interpretation. This one is such a garlic pod. I may have to parse this one with my own ideas later…

      Reply

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