This Time

Fay Slimm.

 

 

 

This Time.

 

Holed with stary vermillion November's
clear sky spreads eerie welcome 
to homing's slow footsteps.

Bound by hilly heathers this gentlest
of valleys strikes tired heartstrings
when mem'ries start sinking. 

 

This time she notes recalled aromas
of moorland's' mauve wildness 
and as twilight's finger striates horizon     
her roamer's eyes widen 
at missed noise of thunderous ocean           
pounding high cliffs of the cove.

 

Need's deep insistence pierces absence,
punctures stale failure 
as her feet turn again to seek familiar    
away from ambition and
when previous pleasures of ghost-like 
nostalgia rustle worn chains        
with notions for freedom she decides
that this time she must stay. 

 

  • Author: Fay Slimm. (Offline Offline)
  • Published: November 22nd, 2021 02:28
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 53
  • Users favorite of this poem: spilleronsheet
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Comments +

Comments7

  • Goldfinch60

    Beautiful words of wonderful memories Fay.

    Andy

  • orchidee

    This time I am reading your poem and saying good write Fay!

  • Neville


    I often wonder whether there is an awareness of the precise moment when something clicks and .. bingo, one just knows for sure that moment is now and a decision has been made without it being consciously thought ... so apart from the obvious beauty of your words today, that is the dreamy place they took me ...................

    Neville ....................................... x

  • spilleronsheet

    This sounds so energetic
    It gave me feels of a traveller, a dreamer
    And the words ornamented so well
    Loved these lines of yours-
    “Need's deep insistence pierces absence,
    punctures stale failure
    as her feet turn again to seek familiar
    away from ambition and
    when previous pleasures of ghost-like
    nostalgia rustle worn chains
    with notions for freedom she decides
    that this time she must stay. “

  • Doggerel Dave

    Lost for words here, Fay - I can feel it - the embrace and rightness of this place. ...but appropriate expression not available to me. Your poem however.....

  • L. B. Mek

    'Bound by hilly heathers
    this gentlest of valleys, strikes
    tired heartstrings
    when mem'ries, start sinking.'
    (makes me want to get-up
    put together a hiking backpack
    and just get lost, in the hills
    of our beloved Blighty's, abundant
    Nature paths, to gift myself
    a seasonal, last hurrah
    healing escapade
    before Winter, rushes-in
    and makes it all
    a pipe dream) lol
    loved the way you accentuated, the intuitive conversational elements
    that bonding with nature, sometimes yields
    a great write, dear Fay

  • dusk arising

    Nostalgia and the graceful acceptance of circumstance flow through me as I read your so well composed post today.

    I suppose ageing and having lived a bit give us that grace to accept as our lives change and the taken for granted surrounding become ever dearer to our very existence as we blend with the turn of nature itself.

    I know I shall want this for keeps, into my favourites for sure.



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