This Time.
Holed with stary vermillion September's
clear night spreads eerie welcome over
my slowed footsteps.
Bounded by heathering hills the gentle
valley scents memory's ache
as my roots sink into home's velvet skin.
This time as I take in long-loved aroma
of moorland's lavender fringes
with twilight's finger striating late sky
my misty eyes glaze with
beguile and sounds of childhood arise
as low tide kisses coves.
At last pull of quiet pierces too long
an absence, punctures stale
failure to ask why, when abandoned
for wealth or early ambition
do feet turn again to needed familiar
where girl- lit the ghosts
of missed pleasures mingle with ache
and as nostalgia grows
and travelling yields to a settled pace
this time I know I must stay.
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Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: September 5th, 2022 03:05
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 59
- Users favorite of this poem: Bella Shepard, Jerry Reynolds.
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Comments6
Sooner or later we must settle - and you, utilising memories richly textured have given perfect reasons for doing so. Your homecoming infused with those memories leaves a satisfied feeling of completion, Fay.
Warmth of a mother’s bosom, whether of flesh or soil, is for ever etched in our psyche, always welcoming.
Your words have so romanticized the urge to return.
This time - but not only this time - I say 'Good write Fay!'
What a wonderful reconnection with a place that evokes beloved memories. Lovingly written and beautifully phrased! It is truly a fav.
Beautiful, Fay. You capture September like it is.
nowt short of splendid say's I .. x
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