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Last Triumph

The stage was already bare after this last performance New dawns will come Yet you feel the game is over Anticipation has changed to resignation Later on, a hand will reach for the golden ring New voices will be heard shattering the peace of the valley Your last triumph is not forgotten The reedy voices of despair will soon be irrelevant Sunshine warms the cold brown earth Bringing hope in its wake

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Andrea Dietrich

Date: 9/9/2010 4:24:00 PM

That's cool you are in this Tolkien REader, Matthew. Yeah, and I got called Four Eyes! Actually, it looked more like Cat Eyes, what weird glasses in the 60's they made. I endured days and days of misery adjusting to contacts. My eyes would tear up constantly that first month but I endured. Women will do anything out of vanity!! LUv, Andrea ps NOw I use soft, so much better!!!

Carolyn Devonshire

Date: 9/9/2010 7:44:00 AM

I'm still waiting for that golden ring, Matthew. Your poem reflects some of the despair with which I've been wrestling as of late, but you offer hope. Thank you! Love, Carolyn

Andrea Dietrich

Date: 9/8/2010 6:40:00 PM

ooh, Mewlips sounds so cool! IS it anything like Stephen King (my hero?) Well, about THIS poem, it is very nice, Matthew. I do not really have a clue what it is specifically talking about, but I do enjoy the sound of it. And it resonates with hope! Luv, Andrea