She sat on a chair in the garden,
Succour for her aching legs.
The vastness of the flower show—
Mesmerising and soul-nourishing,
Marred only by splotches of rude brooding
She had determined must be ignored.
She sat on a chair in the garden,
Succour for her aching legs.
He snapped photos on his phone,
Turning it this way and that.
She gave him her practiced smile,
Gracious and elegant all at once,
Masking the aching in her heart.
When finished, he went off to find the bar.
She sat on a chair in the garden,
Succour for her aching legs.
She closed her eyes for just a moment
To still her tired heart.
“Madam, we are closing the show,”
Security roused her at last.
The street lamps had come on;
He was nowhere to be found.
She trained her eyes around,
Then made her way to the big red bus.
She sat on a chair—not in the garden,
But seeking succour for her aching legs.
He drove off without her,
She found peace on the tracks;
Thank God for the London trains.
He took her photo to the studio,
Printed it and bought a frame.
She saw it on the dining wall
One day just before the guests.
They admired and they gawked,
Between mouthfuls of tasty food;
Said it was spectacular, and that—
But she remembered the afternoon,
She sat on a chair in the garden,
Seeking only rest for her legs.
-
Author:
Poeticdiplo (
Offline) - Published: August 21st, 2026 14:08
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett
Offline)
Comments1
This poem gave change of direction several times in my mind. It could be said that it was my interpretation not the poem regardless it sent me in different directions from a relationship desired a photograph a relationship that did not develop and when tracks were mentioned I thought suicide but then a reappearance and a sense of sadness memories in pictures later framed and hung. Very nicely done and a fave.
Thank you Sorenbarrett. I’m so glad for your encouraging words.
The poem is a reflection on a real-life scenario with several different elements flowing onto the page in one long afternoon.
You are most welcome
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