Michael Edwards

AND NO ONE SITS AT TABLES

AND NO ONE SITS AT TABLES

 

As night submits to day

along the shore by slow degree,

and buttery glowing quayside lights

begin to melt and lapping waves

create their complex harmonies

which offer no translation. 

 

And from the lonely hills

where bustle knows no currency,

the pleading bleat of Wiltshire Horn

compete with sacred tolling bells

ignored by those of unbelief

as night submits to day.

 

From serried ranks of scented pine

the sinuous fingered shadows point

to where the tired roisters sleep

in quiet restful sanctuary

behind their shuttered window panes

and no one sits at tables.

 

Michael Edwards© August 2016

Comments7

  • willyweed

    very well done Michael. great visuals! ww

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks WW

  • WriteBeLight

    I love your line about the pine! Very nice!

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks for commenting WriteBeLight

  • P.H.Rose

    Absolutely brilliant
    I love this...
    Making it a favourite
    Well done sir....

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks so much PHR - you've made my day - I feel really flattered

  • kevin browne

    like this a lot. great write dude,



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