Monday, April 4, 2011


I looked in the distance
and, lo and behold,
there was no horizon beckoning
like a lover’s ardent plea
to follow where he leads.

Perhaps I was mistaken.
Horizons must exist
or else the same old, same old,
gains a foothold in the door
and overpowers me.

So I cleared my eyes of fantasy
and looked again long and hard
till finally there it was
where it has always been.

So my horizon looms
next to yours and his and hers
in the distance far away
calling softly, softly,
“Please come to me”.

What? What? The deaf cannot hear
and so the shimmer of horizons
merely the tears it cries
mournfully, heartbreakingly,
throughout each live long day.

Horizons? Yes, they’re beautiful
but lonely without you!





  1. Hi Helen,

    I just discovered your site after starting up my own blog and looking for like-minded individuals and have to say I really enjoyed this poem. There is something very playful about it, despite its bittersweet air.

    Best wishes,

  2. Thank you, Kat. To engender a bit of playfulness into the sometimes bitterness of life is to ... triumph! :)