Geoff Powell

Newtownabbey, Northern Ireland

The Bridges Of Life

A crowded bridge; yet no-one there
where voices call yet no-one hears.
You reach to touch but feel no flesh.
That is the bridge of fears.

A bridge over a spate of tears
which will not ease by the morrow,
with unanswered phrases of joy and love.
That is the bridge of sorrow.

A bridge where friends and lovers meet,
and smouldering embers of love turn to fire,
Where plans are devised -- then realized,
That is the bridge of desire.

A bridge where you see departed love,
Believing she is back to help you cope,
Just a spectre, but you know she is there,
That is the bridge of hope.

A bridge over the complications of life,
Of wondering and where-fores and whys,
Over the rivers of cares and sadness,
That is the bridge of sighs.

A bridge that spans all happy years,
Spent with my love so fair,
Now facing life without her,
That is the bridge of despair.

A bridge from here to eternity,
Spanning hopes for the world above,
Where once again our hands will clasp,
That is the bridge of love.
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