Treasure Island

Richard Allen Beevor

(23 March 1949 / London)

Again it Is

Again it is that I sit weary of this pitiful life,
now I can only rest in the silent rocking chair,
at the end of another day holding nothing.

The gas lamp from the wall shines light
that glows soft on my silver hair,
old age curbs the way that one would enjoy life,
ever forward I used to press toward another goal
but that was in days of my youth,
unlike this day.

Now all I have to console my heart are memories,
the songs my life once sang,
those happy laughing years that belong to tender youth,
my joy stretched beyond the sky
out into the space.

So I sit and remember as the sun sinks for one more day,
tomorrow holds nothing for this ancient old man,
yesterday at least gives me something to be happy about,
but then that only reminds me of what I am now.

So with another sigh that says life's over,
I lay to rest,
the world feels cold as I see it now through my eyes,
I gave my best and gained little in return,
the sun outside my window rolls away for one more day,
within my solitary room,
in my mind no more to say.

Submitted: Friday, April 25, 2014

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Comments about this poem (Again it Is by Richard Allen Beevor )

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  • Shobana Gomes (5/9/2014 7:15:00 PM)

    I love this poem Richard - so much to endure and reminiscence and before you know it events that occur are windows to the past. (Report) Reply

  • Mihaela Pirjol (4/29/2014 2:01:00 AM)

    A nostalgic, heart touching poem.Beautifully expressed.

    Thank you for your comment Richard.Yes, we do! For The Island of Love! :) (Report) Reply

  • Colleen Courtney (4/25/2014 11:54:00 AM)

    This is so very sad! Brings a tear to my eye as the lines are so wonderfully conveyed. Pulls at the heartstrings. So beautifully written! (Report) Reply

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