The Blade of Grief
The loss of one with whom our life was built
will come to be the loss of our life, too,
We view the rest of life without a clue.
The blade of grief thus buried to its hilt,
we hope that it will do what such blades do,
The loss of one with whom our life was built,
will come to be the loss of our life, too.
We view our hopes for death with little guilt,
for death is that new love we hope to woo.
We seek no other lover that is new.
The loss of one with whom our life was built
will come to be the loss of our life, too.
We view the rest of life without a clue.
For dVerse Poets Chaucerian Roundel
To read other roundels created for this prompt, go HERE.

A beautiful and moving poem Judy
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Thanks, Sadje.
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You’re welcome
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Movingly beautiful Judy ❤️
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Muchas gracias, poet..
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De nada ❤️
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Beautifully moving poem, on Monday its 1 yr since my brother passed suddenly. Its a hard realization that its been a year, when a part of me hasn’t entirely grasped the truth of him being gone.
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So sorry. It has been 24 years since my husband passed away but it seems every year more close friends do and when I look at group photos, everyone but 2 or three are no longer with us.
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Your poem got my attention, Judy. “The last of life, for which the first was made.” (Browning)
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His thoughts the reverse of mine..and who am I to debate Browning???
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This captures the feeling (despite the flippant mood suggested by “clue”) so well. I hope those who feel this way find some resolution in carrying on the work their loved ones did in this life.
Pris cilla King
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The word “clue” was not meant to be flippant, Priscilla, and the feeling was one overcome many years ago. It just reflects one attitude about death––one perhaps often felt immediately upon the death of a loved one. This blog is testimony to the fact that I did not remain in that frame of mind. In immediately moving to Mexico––something we were all set to do together––our van still tightly packed with his things as well as mine, I had enough to occupy my mind to make a constant dwelling on my sadness impossible. It took 8 years, however, before I felt once again to be unmarried and it was at that point that I began to assemble and publish a book about those years and 5 years later to establish this blog which was then called “Grieflessons.” Thanks for commenting.
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Good work – but hopefully a feeling to be surmounted
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It was, long ago, Derrick.
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It sounds like you have worked through grief a great deal and this is just one response to it, Judy, great use of the form…
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Yes. My original name for this blog was Grieflessons and I started it 12 years ago both to promote my book Lessons from a Grief Diary about my husband’s last weeks and the 8 years after his death as I accustomed myself both to his absence and to living in a new country. Although I wrote this poem yesterday, it was written, perhaps, from my initial response to his death, not my ultimate one. Thanks for your comment.
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I appreciated every emotion, each word of your beautifully composed poem.
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This is so powerful showing how much we lose in grief… how can we really get on afterwards
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This is so powerful, Judy! I love that you captured how the world seems senseless after such a loss and the initial cluelessness about how one would go on, would or ever could see the world through a single lens after a long time as half of a duo. I felt the question: “how can I go on now that he’s gone” strongly as I read your poem. And you have answered that with your story about how your blog evolved. I think this would be a good poem for grief therapy, because it acknowledges the despair one feels.
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Thanks, Kim. I ended up writing an entire book about the process of grief after my husband’s death, but unfortunately a friend let me use one of his isbn numbers that he had purchased a dozen of, then passed away and his wife doesn’t have his password for his computer and Amazon won’t acknowledge me as the author of my own book. I have been trying for years to get them to give me the rights to the book I spent 8 years writing… to no avail even though it is listed with me as the author on my book page and they won’t take it off. We have no idea where the money is going and I don’t want to advertise it as I’m not making a cent on it.
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That layers wrongness on top of sadness, Judy. It’s such a bizarre twist of events. I usually believe that “life is perfectly occurring, you just don’t know that as it’s happening”, but this story is more like one of my husband’s phrases, “evil forces of nature”. I can only hope that the process of writing the book was helpful, even though you can’t get your hands on it, so to speak.
Namaste.
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This is a fantastic write. Very well done. 👏
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Thanks, Shaun.
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A round of applause for this Roundel – its pure poetry and just right for the form with that haunting refrain
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Thanks, Laura. I wrote my first Chaucerian rhymes after reading the Prelude to the Canterbury Tales in high school. Then ended up reading the entire tales in Middle English in college. He was a favorite.
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You are much more valiant than me for Middle English
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