Michael Edwards

A RECOLLECTION

 

 

A RECOLLECTION

 

 

Against the thin autumnal skies

a bell rings from a profiled tower

as boys emerge in haste.

 

Multi-coloured clothing shed

by naked trees  in  filigree

is kicked and crunched by black-laced shoes

along the hidden path to home

where  brambles threaten red chaffed legs

 

Opaque streams of drifting smoke

point to bonfires newly lit

where men in caps dig sodden soil

to sounds of stainless steel in clay

beyond the hedge and out of view

 

With muddied shoes and tousled hair

unseen they soon emerge

on tarmacadamed roads to home.

 

 

 

 

Comments6

  • Goldfinch60

    I could see this Michael - artwork in words.

    • Michael Edwards

      An early recollection of mine - these days we would never be allowed to go home unaccompanied at an early age through countryside where anything could happen. The woods and country lanes were our playground back then.

    • Jooles

      Lovely

    • orchidee

      A fine write Michael. Did Reka Lection write this? is she foreign - Reka?

      • Michael Edwards

        I think you mean Reck O'Lection - she's Irish or at least she thinks she is - she has a bad memory.

      • BRIAN & ANGELA

        THANKS UNCLE MIKE ~ Fine line drawing and equally fine ~ poema nostalgica ! Even I remember such freedom in the late 1980's when I was SIX ! Alas we seem to have morphed into a pardoxical Lawless but Nannie State ! Most days Im glad Im 35 (not 15) but I sure would not wish to be 55 and miss all the FUN (?) of early matrimony ! Yours as ever BRIAN

      • A.H. Browning

        Really enjoyed reading this. Your words are quick to transform into images in my mind as I read.

        • Michael Edwards

          Probably the artist in me but I do like 'Painting With Words' - I appreciate your kind words AH

        • dusk arising

          He he, excellent. What picture my mind creates. Similar to the little girl sports hero on the TV advert for.... blowed if i recall the product but the advert is excellent. Likewise your poem.

          • Michael Edwards

            Yes that was me. We used to get up to all sorts of mischief - we would gather the autumn leaves and make a bonfire to see if it was still burning the next morning on our way back to school.



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