The Music Isn't There

 

There was a time when I was young that life was oh, so grand                    

I’m sure I wasn’t worthy of such a perfect hand

I walked along the seashore, the moonlight on my hair

I woke at dawn and laughed and sang, I didn’t have a care.

The world spun round for me alone, and all good things were mine

I thought that it would never change, life always would be fine

But I don’t have to tell you ~ you know as well as I

Good things don’t last forever, we sometimes have to cry.

One day there came into my life a special kind of friend

I thought of nothing day and night but spending time with him
He said he’d love me always, and never would depart
Then he grew bored and went away, shattering my heart

And now I walk along the shore, the moonlight on my hair

I wake at dawn but when I sing, the music isn’t there

Neither is there laughter, nor does the earth still twirl

Nothing good is left for me; I’m just a lonely girl.

                                                                   ~pth 1981

Just One More Day

Please give me ‘til tomorrow

Before you go away

I’d beg, I’d steal or borrow

If only you would stay. 
                 

We’ve been so long together

Our hearts have grown that way

So what’s it matter whether

You stay just one more day?

Just give me ‘til tomorrow

To think and kneel and pray

To let go of the sorrow

That’s plaguing me today.

Then we’ll kiss and say goodbye

I’ll turn and walk away

I promise you I will not cry

Just give me one more day!

                                 pth~


This poem also appears in Page & Spine Literary
 Magazine and the book, Sweet Whispers of Youth

Sweet Whispers Of Love

 Do you love me?

I long to hear the words, but 

      you do not speak them.

Instead, you lavish me with “things,”

Don't you know that objects cannot
      satisfy the burning heart that
      yearns to hear 

Sweet whispers of love.

I pity you... for if you are not capable

      of expressing love, then

Perhaps you are also incapable of feeling it. 

                                                 pth~ 1980


This poem also appears in Page & Spine Literary
 Magazine and the book, Sweet Whispers of Youth

A Ghost From The Past

Somewhere in the shadowy beauty of a summer’s day,

Lingering in the humid air like a morning fog                               

Is a lovely memory of summers past.

Of barefoot days and carefree ways~

Of reveling in the wonder of

God’s perfect creation without really noticing;

Certain that youth would always be mine.

But as all things pass, so passes youth~ and now I am

Mired in a world of cares~ with no time to enjoy

The miracle I once took for granted.

But the memory lurks there still

Calling to me like a ghost from the past...

I cannot go back.

Ah, how I wish I could!

                                                 pth~

Remembering You

The days were warm and sunny

In August when we met;

I think it’s kind of funny

How the memory lingers yet

                                 

Of sandy hair and boyish grin

And dancing eyes of blue,

Of wit and charm and winning ways –

Yes, I remember you!

As days went by, we shared so much

Of life and love and dreams and such;

You made my world a rosy hue –

Ah, I remember you!

December brought its chilling winds

By now, we two were more than friends.

We made a snowman, trimmed the tree,

Sat by the fire, you sang to me.

The glory of the springtime brings

Green grass, a flower, a bird that sings.

This year I saw it all anew

Because I was in love with you.

Then summer came and went so fast;

Just like our love, it couldn’t last.

Your head was turned by someone new;

You went away – my heart did, too!

Once more it’s August warm and bright,

I think of you both day and night.

What can I say, what can I do?

It hurts so much remembering you!

                                         pth~

For Debbie~

How deep is my sorrow,

How intense is my pain?

How bleak looks tomorrow,

         Will there be only rain?

My sorrow is deeper than any sea

          And the pain is hard to bear;

How can another tomorrow be

          Knowing you won’t be there?

I miss your smile each morning
     Your loving touch at night,
The birds don't sing as sweetly,
     The sunshine's not as bright.

To be with you again, my love
     Would be my greatest fate,
But my heart goes right on beating
     While my soul longs for its mate! 

                                                         pth~

©2014 Peggy Toney Horton




 

But Didn't

Did you ever think at close of day

Of kindly words you meant to say—

                          But didn’t?

Do you ever think when day is done

Of errands kind you could have run—

                          But didn’t?

Do you ever think at daytime’s end

Of flowers bright you meant to send—

                          But didn’t?

Do you ever think when skies are red

Of hungry mouths you could have fed—

                          But didn’t?

Do you ever think at dawn of night

Of letters kind you meant to write—

                          But didn’t?

Do you ever think at life’s set of sun

You’ll think of deeds you could have done—

                          But didn’t?

                              ~Kathryn Thorne Bowsher

A Few Thoughts On Growing Old

• Old age arrives suddenly as does the snow 

• The entire life of a human being depends upon “yes” and “no” uttered two or three times between the ages of 16 and 25. 

• Old age embellishes everything. It has the effect of the setting sun on the beautiful twilights of autumn. 

• The person who considers himself too old to learn something has probably always been that way. 

• So long as one continues to be amazed, one can delay growing old. 

• It is by growing old that one learns to remain young. 

• It's not about the lines on the face - it's about the wisdom behind them. 

• Youth is a wonderful thing.  What a crime to waste it on children.  ~George Bernard Shaw 

• There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.

Love Is

Love is a warm spring day, a moonlit

        night, green meadows, daffodils

        swaying in the breeze, closeness,

        understanding, needing, not caring

        what other people say, a red rose,

        belonging, longing, frustration,

        pain...

                                ~pth


 This poem appears in the book "Sweet Whispers of Love."

Solitude

The fresh spring rain has subsided,

     leaving a heavy fog hanging
 in the early morning air. The only

     hint of life nearby is the sound of

birds singing outside my window.

 

My heart is as heavy as the

     smothering fog because I have

     awakened to the realization that

 your pillow has not been slept on.

 

Our once deep love has diminished

     like the rain; a simple

     misunderstanding developed

into a quarrel, created hostility and

     finally surrendered to indifference.

 

Now you are gone and my life is as

     empty as the six a.m. streets. 
 I have only the sweet smell of spring
     rain, the music of singing birds, and

 lovely memories.

                                 ~ pth

 

Be Gone Sweet Youth!

Be gone, sweet youth

I do not care that you are waning now,

Nor will I whine and beg you stay –

Who needs you anyhow?

Be gone, sweet childhood days of yore

When care was far away,

Even if you could,

I would not beg you stay.

Away, sweet adolescent years

Of discovering love and pain

Even if I wanted to,

I can’t see you again.

Be gone, young wedded years

Of plans and hopes and dreams;

I can’t recall your good points

My memory fails, it seems.

I sampled your sweet offerings

Laughed and loved and cried

But when I felt secure in life,

Then you just up and died!

So, be gone, sweet youth

Take with you all your vows;

I will not whine and beg you stay

Who needs you anyhow?

                                  ~PTH

Do Not Speak To Me Of Love

Do not speak to me of love

It would only bring me pain,

It’s true I’ve been in love before,

But shall not love again.

I used to think ‘twas love that made

The world go spinning ‘round,
But now I know that true love
Can’t possibly be found.

I gave my heart to one who vowed
He’d always be around,
Then one day he left me and my world
Came crashing down.

So, to speak to me of love my friend
Would truly be absurd;
For me, love has no meaning,
It’s just another word!
                                ~pth

The Uninvited

Loneliness is a cold, steel blade

Cutting at the heart..

Not swiftly, so as to ease the pain,

But with a cruel slowness.

Creeping in uninvited

While the sun sleeps and the silence

   is deafening

It tortures the soul and refuses to
   stop

Until it is dipped once again...

Into the searing hot fires of love!

                                

Comes The Dawn

I can't take credit for writing this one. Wish I could. I've carried it around for years, but haven't a clue who wrote it.  If anyone knows, please share it with me.

                                ~~~

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn’t mean nothing

And company doesn’t mean security,

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts

And presents aren’t promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head held high and your eyes open

With the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans.

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn

That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure...

That you really are strong.

And you really do have worth.

And you learn and learn...

With every good-bye, you learn.

Do You Ever

Do you ever think about me

When you’re down and feeling blue?

Do you remember little things

I used to say and do?

Do you ever see my face in the

Mirror of your mind,

When life is quite disturbing

And no comfort you can find?

When you’re weary at day’s end

And lonely not by choice,

Do you sometimes speak about me;

Do you think you hear my voice?

Do you reach to touch my hand

Knowing that I’ll understand

What it is you’re going through

And be there just for you?

If at times you think about me,

See me, hear me, touch me, too,

Then you must understand, my love

I’m still a part of you!

                                         ~PTH

Jonathan

I knew him only as a friend

To say ‘twas more, I’d just pretend

And yet, who knows what might have been

I loved him only as friends do

I’m sure that’s how he loved me, too

Now who can prove that that’s not true?

So near and yet so far were we

As close as we could ever be

For I was thirty-nine, you see

And twenty-five was he.

I hoped that it would never die

This friendship we had, he and I

But then it did ~ Oh how I cried!

Could this have been a friendship

Of a different kind

If my age were his and his were mine?

Might we have been true lovers

At another time

If I’d been only twenty-five

And he’d been thirty-nine?
                    ~pth