This poem by Gilbert Huntly was originally published on our site in August 2016 with a short introduction by Lasha Darkmoon. (See here.) — Editor JSM
THE GIRL ON THE TRAIN
by Gilbert Huntly
She stepped upon the boarding deck—
My heart leapt to my throat!
And then I knew that I beheld
A lass of worthy note!Her graceful poise, her comely face
As she scanned the coach’s seats
Did strike a chord of fearful thought
My eyes with hers should meet!Afraid I was, lest she should see
Discomfort in my poise,
And know I was unsettled then,
Aside from train’s loud noise . . .She chose a seat across from mine,
There placed her graceful form;
And I knew then that all I’d sworn
Was empty and forlorn!She looked me in the eye. Her stare,
As cold as Arctic winds can be,
Pierced my sick heart. A black despair
Then froze my bones—and finished me!
In comparison with the poem of Sardonicus I find this poem of Gilbert Huntley more female, more submissive,
if I might qualify that way. Sardonicus poem is more a poem of a praedator, opposites. I like both poems but Sardonicus poem is a bit weird.
She stood upon the burning deck!
I reckon we could lighten this up quite a bit.
The poem by my friend Gilbert is a delightful poem by a healthy-minded person, devoid of all sickly fantasies. It is a beautiful romantic poem in the style of Wordsworth. It has rhyme and metre and musicality. Well done, Gilbert! I envy you your innocent outlook on life and wish I could imitate it.
Sigh. It is not to be! I belong among the outcasts of the earth, wandering through Gothic graveyards under haunted moons, like the accursed Edgar Allen Poe who was also suspected (without any evidence) of being a murderous psychopath.
Sardonicus :
Doesn’t sound like the Zen religion of yours is doing you any good. That’s the impression one gets.