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Scattered Pages

Scattered Pages

A sad start doesn't mean you can't have a happy ending
Majella rests by the cherry tree,
a diary by her side.
Her lover is gone, now
she'll never be his bride. 

A broken heart can linger,
hurt far more than broken flesh.
Some are never mended,
Never able to start afresh.

Dark stormy clouds surround,
The pages, the wind betook.
Rain drenched the love
in a broken old book.


Stormy winds scatter 
the miserable leaves 
of a tired old book;
for her shattered story, she grieves.

A book in a wind storm, 
leaves blown and tossed.
Once loved passionately, 
the story is now lost.

Hard rains fall on 
leaves spinning above. 
Distorted words on a page 
paint sad pictures of love. 

Majella is long gone 
though her diary lives on
in a dusty old library, 
an old chair she lay upon.

Long years of neglect; 
now her solitude must end. 
She seeks a new chapter, 
from a writer, or new friend...


Resting on a dusty chair 
jaded, torn and worn, 
she sits gracefully over there, 
she’s given up, quite forlorn. 

Bound with silk stitching, 
torn pages are broken. 
If you’re not afraid to touch,
her pages will awaken! 

A writer, a lover of words 
strolls into her room. 
In his quest for a muse 
spies a treasure, entombed. 

Elegant fingers caress her spine,
gold silk stitching, gossamer hair. 
Dressed in soft leather,
gold leaf beauty, is rare.

Fingertips softly trail 
every exquisite curve 
of each elegant letter 
of every enchanting word... 


A resplendent page, a leaf. 
Each reveals its own story,
as told by a new lover, 
a new emprise in all its glory. 

Sublime words dance gracefully 
across a new page, 
a pen waltzing celestially 
as if performing on stage. 

And so they carry on
his pen to her paper,
dancing in new chapters 
to make an old story greater. 

The spring of a new friendship, 
a hot torrid summer fling, 
autumn's cool breeze, 
winter carries a chapter's end.

Lucy sat by the old cherry tree,
Her grandmother's diary in her hand.
She marvelled at the wonderful life
over the many years it spanned.

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This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © 2018 Trinket. Don’t steal my writing.

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