Fay Slimm.

FOLLY.

 

 

Folly.


The pastoral scene became flawed
by that ruin.
A temple of sorts now stone folly 
half hidden and roofless
its once deeply blue stucco got
holed and  chunks
of old floor to nature exposed
much mottled with mould   
Untended damp roots 
crept sadly up windowpanes
locked in time\'s foreordained rust.

 

Aged bones of a place its naked top
now unsuited
for trysting lovers, yet as arranged
she waited but hope sunk
with the sun when dusk showed
him gone and herself alone.
She,  faced with folly,
felt the babe move and watched
built dreams fade, trust
weaken and love\'s future crumble.