NIGHT VIGIL

The cottage is tucked up in bed,

curtains like eyelids are closed;

there's a glow of a fire

where its heart is beating,

a carpet rolled out for welcome. 

 

No-one knocks at this ungodly hour,

outside, the lane is a river of dark. 

We sit in silence's mutual regard,

as right as keys in a lock,

complete, as companions should be.

 

The cottage is tucked up in bed,

the flames are like a dream;

questions and answers folded away

to await the breath of  another day

 preserving this simple scene. 

 

 

 

◄ WEAPONRY

AMNESTY ►

Comments

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raypool

Mon 15th Jan 2018 15:33

You old cynics - your imagination has stirred me from a reverie into dark and gloomy waters. Quite right too - there should be a knock and trouble brewing. I do have a sentimental side, but the atmosphere has to be right. Thank you one and all, Col. David, Douglas, Des and Suki for some nice takes !

Thank you for your likes, David and Pat.

Ray x to all.

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Martin Elder

Sun 14th Jan 2018 14:40

call me an old sentimentalist but I loved it from the opening words of
'the cottage is tucked up in bed' through to the very last
Are there still Welsh nationalist burning weekend cottages?

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suki spangles

Sun 14th Jan 2018 11:59

Intriguing stuff Ray. I read this as a romance with a slight pyro vibe. A David Lynch production!

Suki

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Wolfgar Miere

Sun 14th Jan 2018 08:41

Considering the title and the use of "we" in the third line of V2 this puts me in mind of watching/surveilling, it has that atmosphere of expectation and something sinister about to happen.

Maybe something in County Fermanagh in the early 80's, probably not your intention at all.

David.

DESMOND CHILDS

Sun 14th Jan 2018 00:28

Good night Colin, just as the nightmares begin,as the welsh nationals break down raymondos door and drink all his gin. What else could spoil a perfect night.

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Douglas MacGowan

Sat 13th Jan 2018 23:58

“Silence’s mutual regard” is a good way of alluding to a well-developed relationship that goes above and beyond unnecessary words.

<Deleted User> (13762)

Sat 13th Jan 2018 23:47

there's something not quite right about this chocolate box scene or is it me? I can't help but think something bad is lurking in that dark river of a lane - maybe Mr Death from the village is about to come knocking or a Welsh Nationalist has a can of petrol to hand. "Come home to a real fire - buy a cottage in Wales!" Or maybe it's just late and I need to get to bed? Goodnight and thank you for this heartwarming bedtime story Raymondo. Col.

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