Love Poem: The Invisible Man 27
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Written by: Terry Trainor

The Invisible Man 27

I wrote the Invisible man poems many years ago. These poems, and I have not submitted them all, was for a little girl who died in a road accident. They are a tribute to her memory. It was a dark and very sad time and I miss her so much. The Invisible Man poems are supposed to to show the the darkness of my world, the way I felt. They are very precious to me. Thank you for reading.

It will be soon midsummer of a fleeting year,
The sward will be brown, flowers faint and few,
Songbirds are hushed all but a faint but clear song
And 'larum of the bird-boy reach the ear,
Through the warm air floats forth lime's sweet scent,
And wayside branches have lost the rose's bloom.
The corn is golden along a thousand sea like slopes,
All crisply rustling to a living breeze, and dancing.
And among the billowy sound of summer trees,
I wander, pondering on departed hopes, people I have lost,
Pleasant lives departed, taken far too soon.
I walk alone, and will forever for I am so very lonely,
What of those blessed affections have I found and lost,
As we grow life should ripen like its summer corn.
Which has from my feeble weakened grip been torn,
Of all the love with which young life was crowned?
Hearts, which if I would seek, I would not know where to look,
I only know where to find their graves, they have long been there.
These lives fell away like leaves when life was too new,
Stabbed by grief to which the fairest clings, to hopes for,
I have lived on through many springs, hope always lets me down
No greenness or happiness follows where those first buds died,
Still glows the heart, but it glows without the power of love,
Her image is with me daily, straight from her good heart,
Of joys, proud thoughts, sweet sympathies now we are apart,
Which I drink in like one who thirst cannot be quenched,
Fearless that her, like no man's weak faith should fall,
Her face should darken, or her pleasures are small.
Yet, why should I be sad? For I have found,
One true companion, one dear, dead soul is mine,
Who talks in my mind and does sooth, amuse, refine,
And on my heart, one day, will be a cheerful sound,
Of light footsteps in my ears, that I have been found,
Even today in my hopes and joys I remember my happier years.
Then though the false depart, and the weak descend,
Through lights which seemed immortal will cease to burn,
My bitter tears of mourning will put out the light,
Life's sorest sight, life’s work, life’s love without end.