The Memories Of You: Memories Of Love

“For a moment the last sunshine fell with romantic affection on her glowing face; her voice compelled me forward breathlessly as I listened - then the glow faded, each light deserting her with lingering regret, like children leaving a pleasant street at dusk.”

As i lie here on my death bed I begin to think about our past. The times as when I sit here and wonder how could you leave me behind when all my love was for you. After i have you have caused me to be placed here but only by refusing my love. You have caused me to create an forged love towards another man. Your selfishness to leave me and love another woman has destroyed us. I wish there was an time we could go back to the days when we were snugged in the

“The Violets” by Gwen Harwood is a lyrical poem that deals with a woman who is going through a dark period in her life and she looks to her childhood memories, in particular, her parents for sustenance and support. The poem consists of many themes one of which include memory of childhood, the persona of the poem is going through a rough patch in her life and uses her childhood memories The persona concludes, in the present, that neither time nor death can take away our precious memories or those people or places that belong in those memories. Throughout the poem, the tense shifts between past and present as the speaker reaches back in time to a childhood memory, in order to make sense of the present. Another theme that was highlighted was the importance of memories, this is an important theme because due to the retained power of rejuvenation and reflection that memories hold. The violets is a lyrical poem and it

And everything I am bursts into bloom. I feel as though you must, you must be mine, Not as a possession but a goal, you’re a unimaginable beauty. The free devotion of another soul. As though I were about to enter heaven Or just within the hour condemned to die, My mind with one fierce thought keeps running over, With you, and only you, the reason why”. [ a whole bunch of different

I would hold my hand against my lips and tell myself how his eyes followed me. How it smelled like the dumpster behind school on the first Wednesday of summer. How concrete scratched its way through my soles, 30% off running shoes and all. I would tell myself how the smoke on your breath smelled like oak and incense and old ink and old words. Like church. Like i was confessing something. How i bowed my head to the cross that was his arms entangled, to his too proud lether and denim and half yellow skin.

I looked at you in the eye, at my sisters sixth birthday, you looked at me back with a confused face, your eyes grew old, sad and frustrated. You wanted to remember but your brain wouldn’t let you. I wish I could've gotten to know you, hug you, and tell you I loved you before you forgot.

You stood tall, a canopy of safety And never did you leave me. Bundle the worry away, You need not stress your heart.

It’s been a while since I've written of him. I thought slowly but surely he would be buried in my past, and become but a memory, farthest back in my mind. But heaven forbid i move on with my life, he visited my dream last night, and all the emotion, all of… all of him rushed back. Everything was bright, everything was glowing. Three knocks on the door and I knew already who it was. Giddy with excitement I ran to the door and opened it to find my true love on the door step. He was wearing his army uniform, looked as young as the day i met him, as beautiful as ever, and he smiled tipped his hat and said “Ms. Daisy Fay may I have this dance?” And suddenly we were in his house, at one of his parties, so many people, so much music, but all i could hear was him, all i could feel was him, all that mattered was us.

And it deflated with sadness when you were taken away For nine months I held you, felt each little kick To think of our lives without you is making me

Oh, I don’t think I’ve felt my heart race like this ever! All my thirteen years of life have been filled with the same routine of being a neutral, good little girl, who always listened to her parents. That boy Romeo sure had opened up my heart. Once I locked eyes with that gent, I’ve hath felt so many little butterflies in my stomach. This emotions that’s moving up my body, I feel like it’s all a little bit too rushed.

I remember the day just like it was yesterday, the pale color and coldness of her skin. The sky was clear blue, soft, with a touch of red, and the trees seemed stiff in their bright green shade. The wind was blowing with its humid dry air. And All I could do was stand silently in disbelief, caught up in my own thoughts and calm as I ever been. Wondering what I could have done differently to change the course of time, life had taken us upon. Since that very day a chunk of my heart was ripped away, and broken into pieces… “Oh how I miss her so much.”

All of the abilities that I have had in drawing and painting remind me the time that we were together. By the time, you left something in every single moment of my life that makes me feel that I am close to you again. Colors in the new piece that I recently drew, makes me think about your favorite color, gray! Dictatorship and democracy are fighting in this piece of painting, democracy of love and dictatorship of thoughts.

The true nature of the poem was cordial and relaxed, the sentiment was inspiring and it made me feel intimate and warm. This poem also gave me the strong feeling of passion as his use of poetic devices allowed me to see the point he was trying to make. The poem talks about him trying to keep their love in a picture so that the romance’s beauty will be a part of them forever. However, this song is not just about mending a relationship with your significant other, it can also be about reconstructing the relationship with your family. This is shown when he said "Loving can hurt" which could have been talking about to his mother since taking care of a child could be difficult but rewarding at the same time. Then the verse "keep this love in a photograph"

I generally gazed at the stars, once in a while I sobbed and pondered upon the sky for somebody like you. .... A considerable measure of the times I simply hurt more than words can express. More than the tears that have sobbed in distress from my own particular eyes. I hurt. Plain and basically I just totally hurt. I missed being touched, embraced and kissed. My adoration dialects where desert sand with the wind blowing against them and not a single water to be seen. A long time came and past regardless I gazed at those sky. I thought about whether I could ever be glad again. I thought about whether I would die.... overcome with distress and aching for Love, Passion and Romance once more. During the evening, I would lay in overnight boardinghouse the harm that my children were seeing.... Would they ever see what it resembled for two individuals to genuinely cherish each other? Two individuals with tears in their eyes brimming with affection for one another..... Is it accurate to say that i was the stand out seeing this? At last, I laid in informal lodging pondered. Tears took after tears down my cheeks onto a pad with nobody next to me. Alone.

It is the spring of 1995, at 5 o’clock, and the sun will be setting soon. I can smell the aroma of Jasmine flowers as it enters the white mud-brick room of my dressing quarters. My fiance's and my family, have purchased enough flowers to fill the stone courtyard of the local mosque. The scent of the flowers envelops me. At the same time, it lingers on the white shirred lace curtains that are elegantly draped from the windows that flutter back and forth with the gentle breeze. While gazing at the billowing curtains, I am filled with feelings of nostalgia. How soothing they look! At once, I am reminded of the nurturing embrace of my mother, whom I often sought as a child, whenever I was touched by one of life’s misfortunes.