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Best Poems Written by Scharlie Meeuws

Below are the all-time best Scharlie Meeuws poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Scharlie Meeuws Poem

I Still Feel You

I still feel you in the summer meadows 
we walked
and in thoughts that shape 
prayers without words. 

I watched you 
staggering, panting, 
exulting. 
You shone like a cartwheel of light 
in my soul. 
And, oh, your tired bones 
beneath that illusion, 
your shape still glowing. 

First I ignored your now-body 
ranked with blood and fear. 
Blindfolded, I passed you by…
then turned back.
Underneath a blank voiceless sky
I felt your heart tremble, 
felt its old persistent music. 
Beyond logic, beyond hope. 

Twitching feet stilled 
to the sound of my voice,
your face fell against my shoulder. 
A smile lightning you up…
And once again I knew you. 
And you died. 

It was a day without pain, 
though I knew pain would follow, 
like an old dog that will never leave. 

But it did not matter. 
That was the day I decided 
to be happy, 
thinking that happiness may be 
the only thing you wanted from me, 
the only gift I can still give you. 

How else could you have seen
the dragonfly dancing over the garden pond,
the flash of iridescent blue beneath its wings, quick as a breath, how else 
could you see it dart, then hesitate
above the green water, 
as if it gave pleasure deliberately?
 
How could you perceive the sunset
falling between tall trees, that old stillness, 
then the vermilion leaves startling 
in a call of delight, how could you receive 
that golden moment when a skein of geese
across the sky disappeared into the light, 

except through me?

Details | Scharlie Meeuws Poem

Elegy For a Poet

(Dedicated to Carlos Bousono)

Without digressions and steadily 
You grew old like a river reaching the sea. 

As one who reaches the sea and the sand, 
you let go off the safety of the land. 

You fought the storms battling with age. 
Your spirit overcame. You turned a page. 

Your words became salty and filled with shells, 
drifting in light and drafted in spells. 

Young in its fervour, brother of the waves, 
your heart carried weight, wherever it braved. 

Wherever it braved, you came into being 
as when morning dawns and night is fleeing 

in the slimmest of lights, and you suddenly know 
a new day is born and you feel aglow. 

You reached old age undisturbed by chance 
with time for reflection and eager for balance, 

with a gift to listen, repent and find peace, 
as the sea waves receive, hold on and release. 

As the sea winds play with an errant dove 
may the Great Spirit enfold you with love, 

carry you, written in wind, salt and sea 
to Elysium’s infinite harmony.

Details | Scharlie Meeuws Poem

Night Garden

Out of the darkness all that light outside
seems so much brighter and somehow ablaze
as the sun settles down, the colour white
changes to orange, then again displays
 
a pale green yellow, till a spell of dark
engulfs the garden in a twilit gloom,
before it turns to grey with a last spark
of dying sun ray, only to resume
 
a new state of existence everywhere. 
All birdsong stops. Dusk paints the grasses grey.
Some dark-winged moths dance in the breathless air,
a spider web hangs empty of its prey.
 
Night has now fallen and a moon afloat
is crossing ponds, a silent quivering boat.

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The Poetess

Not to show the sadness in her eyes
and the sudden tremor caused by pain,
she moves slowly through her elegies
with her feature's tenuous bouquet,
wildly tied, but also loosely held.

Half forlorn and somehow lingering,
for a while, a tiny tired smile
droops and drops like petals from a rose.

Almost carelessly, indifferently
she exudes a weariness, her hands
do still know of beauty, yet a guess,
they would reach forever, never land.

She recites her poetry from heart:
where fate wavers, life becomes suspect. 
Then she adds it to her own soul's meaning
sounding strangely grand and fabulous.

And she lets with high-uplifted chin
all those words drift down again, fall off,
as no word does justice to her life,
for she treasures this, her sole belonging,
that she still must hold and carry high
far above her fame and even fall.

Details | Scharlie Meeuws Poem

Summer's Blues

All those last days I felt the summer's blues
around the garden, where the bitter time
flies past in butterflies with heavy wings,
all drunk from scent the roses left behind.

The dragonflies seem bolder than in May,
their flight aims higher,
yet their life seems shorter.
I see a chrysalis, a corpse in disarray
exposed and hanging on the spiky reeds.

The first leaves start to fall, the mushroom rise
too early now. Will autumn overrun?
And will it stay? How long? The race goes on.

I wonder if the scented lilac dares
to unfold petals early, cheat the time,
escape from summer's hold and open soon?

Details | Scharlie Meeuws Poem

We Stand At a Loss

Loosened in winds,
how returns are always in vain ...
Something rescinds,
as if by a leaving train
we stand at a loss.
Nothing leads back across 
our shattering world.
Also, the wall built around
our inviting ground
now breathes the pain.