Black Petals Issue #111 Spring, 2025

Grant Woodside: Are Those Days Gone

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That Soft Exhalation: Flash Fiction by Steven French
The Anxiety Tree: Flash Fiction by Paul Radcliffe
Unremarkable: Flash Fiction by Jason Frederick Myers
Are Those Days Gone: Poem by Grant Woodside
Doorways of Life: Poem by Grant Woodside
I Have: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
I Have 2: Poem by Daniel G. Snethen
The Nekraverse: Poem by A J Dalton
Underspace: Poem by A J Dalton
Unseen: Poem by A J Dalton
A Brief History of My Cinema: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
Dad Loved Hitchcock: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
Birds and Vampires: Films Inspire Poetry: Poem by Sandy DeLuca
Frankenstein, On Reflection: Poem by David Barber
Gods of the Gaps: Poem by Simon MacCulloch
Godsblood: Poem by Simon MacCulloch
In The Witch Museum: Poem by Simon MacCulloch
Bake at 400 Degrees: Poem by Christopher Hivner
Time of the Season: Poem by Christopher Hivner
The Werewolf as a Schoolboy: Poem by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
Moonlight's No Longer for Mating: Poem by LindaAnn LoSchiavo
Hallowe'en Howl: Poem by LindaAnn LoSchiavo

Are Those Days Gone

 

Grant Woodside

 

He sees a light now not far away 

Vacant eyes and seaweed tangled hair 

Are known to none but the sea 

Hunting quietly along a dark shoreline 

             ………….

Perhaps the sea is a jealous lover 

But she guards her secrets well 

             ………….

Perhaps he spoke with other ghosts 

Telling them of a long ago betrayal 

Known only by two and the tides 

Which bring to all the melancholy sounds 

Of betrayed lovers embraced by the sea 

             ………….

Inside a lighted house by the shore 

Another man is drinking whiskey 

Remembering one night years long past 

A betrayal known by only two and the tides 

 

Within a darkened room sleeping 

A woman dreaming of days long past 

When two young lovers roamed the shores 

Seeking treasures hidden by pirates 

             ………….

The man with tangled hair stops there now 

Looking up at the lighted house through the mist 

It looks warm and peaceful from the cold 

He smiles wishing it were his home 

 

Remembering well the dreams shared 

By two young lovers roaming the shores 

Seeking treasures hidden by pirates 

             ………….

Perhaps the sea is a jealous lover 

But she guards her secrets well 

             ………….

A man and his whiskey bottle wander away 

Opening the door, leaving for the shore 

Memories creeping about like the mist outside 

 

Recalling a time now long gone 

When two young lovers roamed the shores 

Seeking treasures hidden by pirates 

             ………….

Perhaps the sea is a jealous lover 

But she guards her secrets well 

             ………….

A man walks into the lighted house 

While outside the sea claims time as her own 

 

The woman awakens with his touch 

Eyes still filled with dreams and love 

 

Found a treasure on the shore he whispers 

Smiling, returning a touch never forgotten 

Are those days gone, she asks the darkness 

             ………….

Perhaps some things should never be 

Perhaps some things should always be 

             …………

Perhaps the sea is a jealous lover 

But she guards her vengeance well

Grant Woodside lives in the forests of PEI Canada along with a beautiful sun set haired woman from Scotland named Maryjoan.

The ghosts of Diane and Stella are also here. They are the ghosts of a young girl who was locked away in an upstairs room by her parents with her faithful black dog. That house, which is not far from where Maryjoan and myself are now I lived in as a child. The house was torn down 13 years past 

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