A quite audience, easily forgotten
The passing of winter rain
Stretch and strain, back to my game
Oblivious once again
Yet your pall remains,
A kiss of mist upon the soul
A sentinel
Of chestnut, oak and magpie’s lair
The cross you bare, a gentle snag
From times when you were elsewhere
A golden wave crashes down
Heavens glory reflected, here
The soft rustle of recent gift
A reminder that we care
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 9:50 AM UTC
She woke upon the plain, all distant and alone
Nostalgia stirred the air, an acrid smell like hope
Lofty goals and grand ambition,
To them a dullards joke
A shift to foot, and all is healed
As happy as could be
All wishes granted, all needs fulfilled
For all eternity
Wistful thoughts are stopped at source
Still before mind’s eye a question brought,
Is it heavens crèche or hell itself
Upon our kin we’ve wrought?
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC