Swansong

swan song

It was a white grief, this wannabe swan-
song, full of varying and vying hues.
The news travelled swift; the journey long
train raced past marshy, soaked views

Nostalgia dotted with brown and green
from those shaded ambles through leafy wood
to those japes you capered sharp and mean
to toughen young skin and thicken the blood

As we grew older and you more frail
we aged, changed, talked book before crackling flame
whilst sipping tea and thinking of ale
we grew to know we were but the same

The sheets bleached white and the air smelt clean
as you lay in that bed like an ancient king
That place long gone, as you breath Father Green
and sit in that chair: tap, tap, tapping

 

Sonnet 8 of 100

The following sonnet was inspired by a poem on Hermione’s blog, the poem called ‘Not Always Grey’. You can find the blog and discover the wonderful poetry of Hermione at hermionecameron1.wordpress.com

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