There is no lifting of natures lockdown


I'm just a tired old man

on a mission

to reach a grassy knoll

before the sunsets.


I'm confident that

I shall get there comfortably.

The echo of the church bells

is guiding me.


There I will find

a row of poplars

atop a sunlight rounded hill.


Upon arriving I shall

remove my shoes.

And I shall lay me down

at the base of

the majestic ladies.


The swaying

elegant ladies will sing

enchanting lullabies to me

as I see my last sunset.


Soon I will be

confined by natures lockdown.

A fitting end for a weary old man.


There is no

lifting of this lockdown.

No one has returned

from it

to tell tales.

◄ Valerian


Profile image

Stephen Gospage

Sat 3rd Jul 2021 17:57

A lovely, moving poem, Abdul.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message