The mind makes hay
in the slumber of a long afternoon;
the tired old librarian traipsing
to the back to blow off the dust
from a thought long forgotten.
It was summer when you waltzed
through the middle of my life
appearing like a ghost through a wall
and leaving with an urgency
of a thunderstorm that knocks
out the lights.
Frances Macaulay Forde
Tue 13th Jun 2017 03:23
Another 'beaut' poem, Tom, now a favourite.
The words deceptively dense and very atmospheric while 'wistful' adroitly switches to the effect of winning the lottery.
Well done!
A rewarding "mood" piece that poetry can do so well.
I can almost smell the paper on those dusty shelves and
see the glint of sunlight filtering over old books.
i might have been tempted to use "breezed" rather than
"waltzed" to lead to the thunderstorm departure.
Thanks Colin, I'm with you on the last line! I've amended. I was teetering on it when I put it in.
Thanks for the comments on the art, I'll take that compliment. That was my era and music at the time so I maybe subliminally influenced!
<Deleted User> (13762)
Mon 12th Jun 2017 08:26
think I'd be tempted to ditch that last line Tom - it has a touch of teenage angst about it which rather spoils the maturity of an otherwise excellent poem and in a way only serves to restate what has already been hinted at quite eloquently.
I like the juxtaposition of librarian and traipsing very much. Should there be an 'of' between 'middle' and 'my'?
Your artwork is such a joyous accompaniment to your words and reminds me of early 80's British Indie pop record covers. I hope that's a compliment - it's meant to be.
all the best
Colin
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Tom Harding
Wed 14th Jun 2017 23:59
thanks all for the comments. m.c i'm with you on the change, agree it brings out the ending better.