ghazal - under grass

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The lane winds on, it’s overgrown with grass

Too dark for daisies, ivy crawls through grass


The rusty swing stands creaking like a ghost

The rabbit hutch sits empty in the grass


The gate hangs off its hinges, hesitates

Mildew adorns glass panes, like slimey grass


Children don’t come now, keeping a secret

Sweets are no longer hidden in the grass


The hall is dark and hollow as a tomb

Cascades of junk mail pile up like cut grass


Plastic flowers gather dust by windows

No one comes here since he last cut the grass


I pass by, guilty, look the other way

We all do, now he’s safely under grass




◄ a little journey

kiss haiku ►


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Mon 17th Jan 2011 21:50

I agree with the other commentators - liked the eeriness and rusty swing too x

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Sun 16th Jan 2011 08:09

a great story, sparely told & evocative as ever: just enough & not too much. Marvellous.

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Ann Foxglove

Sat 15th Jan 2011 19:20

Poem was inspired by a garden I passed this morning, when I was on the bus. It was the rusty swing that did it!

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Dave Bradley

Sat 15th Jan 2011 19:18

Atmospheric. I enjoyed this, Ann. For some reason it reminded me of the Radley place in 'To Kill a Mockingbird'.

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Ann Foxglove

Sat 15th Jan 2011 18:13

Done as instructed oh ghazal master! x

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winston plowes

Sat 15th Jan 2011 18:08

Your ghazals have enough elements to be ghazals in their own right, I don't think you should give them the (slightly dispirited) "Nearly tag". Win

I liked this. Had the effect of stopping the music which I think is what you were going for, Win x

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