.
The well has not gone dry,
less frequented maybe
by both the drawers and
the occasional passersby.
The stones are loose;
between them, mortar dissolves-
by clement or contrary
weather on seasonal cue.
The vessel is parched
and longs for its lover
by pulley once lowered
its rope frayed with disuse.
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 3rd, 2022 07:39
- Comment from author about the poem: Published elsewhere as 'A Cup Runs Over.'
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 16
Offline)
Comments2
Age takes its toll on all but there are some things that remain the same or even get better.
Amen to that! Thanks for that apt comment, Soren.
this reads like an old un ..
but on reflection, maybe its the font ..
anyway regardless, as far as I'm concerned its bloomin brill and I ant talkin fish neither, nor am I kidding .. on reflection, I believe 'change that rope' is far more cerebral than many might otherwise imagine .. not that I'm knocking anyone else mind .. I'm just saying ... cheers for sharing crypticbard .. N 🙂
Spot on, dear Nev. The font’s much like an old typewriter, lol. And yeah, that rope isn’t literal. Cheers, mate.
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