Waiting
Listen for the sound of sunlight
Here
Where the words of tiny children
Seem
To echo in our hollow
As lichen hangs like an old mans
Beard
From the twisted boughs and limbs
Upon which
We once freely used to climb
There is a certain sadness here
A stillness and all too familiar quiet
But new
Like an overdue Spring
In the wake of an extended winter
-
Author:
Neville (
Offline) - Published: February 13th, 2020 15:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
Offline)
Comments6
A lyrically emotive piece of writing here Nev. The lilt of long-gone adventures remembered when visiting old places again shines through the flow of your lines and wistfully touches the heart. Trees with low branches in spinneys and hollows must be filled with the spirit of children wanting to be heroes by climbing higher than wise......... yes indeed now
" tinged with sadness" but golden were those growing-days my friend. ................x Fay
You got me... spot on my friend....
Took me straight to the woods where we used to trek and play when i was a child. Just the sound of trees, insects and birds. But in my mind were the voices of Billy, Johnny, Rod And myself. Carefree and young..... discovering, inventing, playing.
Lovely emotive poetry from you that took me there.
How lovely is that my friend... I'm right there with you lot.. yeah me Neil, Pete, Mike and Elizabeth...
Cheers DA.. Happy Days eh'
Neville
Beautiful poem
thank you kindly and truly ..
Neville
A fine write N. With 'sound of sunlight', it reminded me of Mr Bean in a restaurant. He got some odd food, and 'listened' to it with his ear!
a very sensible thing to do under the circumstances... thanks Orchidee… nice one..
Neville
There ain't no waiting for my singing. I'll chirp on anytime, day or night!
Wonderful write Neville, it took me back to those times when playing with friends was freedom from life into times of wonder.
Andy
Much appreciated Andy sir ...
Neville
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