Lizzie Borden Society Forum

And old time friends, and twilight plays
And starry nights, and sunny days
Come trouping up the misty ways
When my fire burns low.

We will probably never know the origin......

But what does it "say" to you?

"When my fire burns low" implies to me that when her spirits are low, or she is feeling especially down, she remembers "Old time friends, and twilight plays, And starry nights, and sunny days" or the better days. "Come trooping up the misty ways" is how she sees them in her memory. Our memories do seem to become faded, or misty, as time goes by. It is hard to recall things, even the good memories, as clearly.

T me it says as she gets older, or when her fire burns low, she remembers the happiest times of her life. The sun was brighter and the nights were starrier (sp?) in her faded memory.

She sees things as they were,
the things of stariness and moonliness,
And mythical funulous things,
Of people singering and dancering.
The things that should have been.
Wonderful things of silver,
and things twinkeleled,
and people that smiled to her,
and benched that she was weary,
and people who lent her a hand,
and friends who came to sparkle,
who don't come anymore.
Ladies in fine dresses,
and men who carried swords.
And now she has to listen
to little thoughts and words,
and people who don't like a new,
no mind to those of old.
She listens from a pedistal,
but never hears their call,
for they are far below her,
not really there at all.

WOW!

"The things that should have been..."
Yes.

I like what Kat and Melissa said. I also see it meaning that when times are bad...your true friends will be there to help pick you back up.


Tracy...

To Kat:
And she is so happy!
She listens to things that she will never believe,
and to the sounds of thunder,
and to the sounds of loss and sometimes wonder,
and to her heart and she loves the heart sounds.
She loves the softly heart sounds and the listerning that they do,
and the learning that she solves,and the helpering she is.
But there is a longing and she hearings that too.
A longing for the pretty people that she knew and the weddings which she loved,
and she showed off, and the men that were and she smiles towards them for some are dead,
and she listens for them too, but they are gone.
She is alone with herself and listens to the winds now,
and she listens to the smiles of strangers, and to the lossers she can help.
Now she is happier than the lovers.
There is a man whose name starts with L and she listens for him.
There is another who was a child with no name whom she listens for and I have news.
There is a woman whom she didn't like and her name starts with a C - celia?
She is there - gotta go.

Someone should PAY you...

I say, Thanks.

I think it is about endings and memories of safer times.

It shows a romantic side. The references starry nights and sunny days....

The mist can me memories or it can be something seen through tears...

BTW--- John,

You can use your power for good. That was very nice.

john @ Sat May 07, 2005 10:51 pm wrote:To Kat:
And she is so happy!
She listens to things that she will never believe,
and to the sounds of thunder,
and to the sounds of loss and sometimes wonder,
and to her heart and she loves the heart sounds.
She loves the softly heart sounds and the listerning that they do,
and the learning that she solves,and the helpering she is.
But there is a longing and she hearings that too.
A longing for the pretty people that she knew and the weddings which she loved,
and she showed off, and the men that were and she smiles towards them for some are dead,
and she listens for them too, but they are gone.
She is alone with herself and listens to the winds now,
and she listens to the smiles of strangers, and to the lossers she can help.
Now she is happier than the lovers.
There is a man whose name starts with L and she listens for him.
There is another who was a child with no name whom she listens for and I have news.
There is a woman whom she didn't like and her name starts with a C - celia?
She is there - gotta go.

So thats the rest of the poem

No Liz...

There is no rest of it.

That is Jon's writing.

Oh my mistake