I was back with My River,
Walking beside it on this cold drab day,
But it was with me,
Its cloudy green surface looking at me,
Old friends travelling together.
I then saw him sitting on a bench,
A friend from the past
Who I shared memories with,
Memories of poetry.
I sat with him and we talked
Talked of many poets
And the joy they brought us.
I looked across My River
And saw the cemetery,
Saw where he lived
As I remembered the day
When I read for him that time,
That one final time as he was laid to rest
And am so sure that he remembers,
Remembers Adlesdrop.
I still see him
As I walk with My River,
When he joins me in my thoughts.
- Author: Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 10th, 2021 02:19
- Comment from author about the poem: When I walk with My River at one point on the other side there is a church and a graveyard, a poetry friend of mine died and was buried there, I was asked to chose and recite a poem at his funeral, I chose one of his favourite poems.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 36
Comments4
A fine write Gold.
I'm not walking me River much these days - or rather, this season of the year. I wouldn't see much of it. It would be more a of a gallop than a stroll, to keep warm.
Thanks Orchi.
It is fine to walk in the cold but it is just a bit muddy in places.
Andy
Really liked this goldfinch.
Thank you Jerry, much appreciated.
Andy
Awe! Thanks for sharing
Thank you RB, glad you liked it.
Andy
what a wonderful dedication and thank you for introducing me to such a relatable and vivid poem Andy,
those river walks must be getting a little chilly though - but soon, early Spring will return,
seems to be returning by early February in recent years, maybe global warming? if so, guess even that has 'some' benefits...
I walk by My River in all seasons and have written so many poems about it, it is very special to me.
Thank you for your words Mek, much appreciated.
Andy
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