Waiting to go to the pub I am a bit bored so I will post a poem. It is from
1996 at the tailend of my last writing period.
The ruined chapel
After all these years
I return
To the empty chapel at the world's end.
The citadel by the sea is vacated,
The chapel a desolate ruin in the forest,
The horsemen ghosts.
I look at the white-trumpeted green convolvulus
Climbing over the ruin.
Bare branches on the trees. No leaves.
I have no imagination,
I cannot visualise back twenty years.
The path is overgrown with brambles and creepers.
We came this way in the days before Autumn
Once upon a time.
Hang out your brightest colours
I need words to confirm the truth of this,
The grey stone-built chapel in the clearing
Where all questions are answered.
Two candles and two red-backed bibles,
A silver cross, loot for black-robed horsemen,
The greatest cathedral north of the Alps
Fallen into disrepair.
The forest is full of the sparkling birds of Summer
The music flutes and I return.
Douglas Clark, Bath, Somerset, England ....
http://www.dgdclynx.plus.com
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