Daffodil Dawn
By Silver Spun Sand
- 3089 reads
So many rooms we’ve slept in;
the first one in my parent’s
council maisonette...
the one you left at three
in the morning; as you crept
down the hall, my dad
found you out...
The one in Pont Saint Pierre
with a bath, bidet, but no loo;
with toile de joie on the walls,
wardrobes, and ceilings...
when we gazed through
an open skylight – came
face to face with a hatchery
of newborn stars.
The rooms in Madrid
and the one in Abu Dhabi;
the one with a phone
in the bathroom, when
I rung my mum to tell her
we had a four-poster bed,
and almost asked could I speak
to Dad – stupidly forgetting
he’d been gone for six months
and I told you,
and you held me close –
made butterfly shadows
on the wall with your hands,
but you said it was an angel;
one of the ones He sends to send us
scurrying to pay penance
for our forgetfulness,
to church;
such is His room...and the last one
in which we two shall sleep will be
in its shadow, where grows the rue...
and the rosa rugosa, warmed by the sun,
cooled by the night’s sweet rain,
and a daffodil dawn,
forever yellow.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
I love this Tina, it has
- Log in to post comments
Hi Tina, hope you had a
- Log in to post comments
This one brought a tear to
Noah
- Log in to post comments
this is a beautiful poem, i
jensenred
- Log in to post comments
Hello Tina, 'A hatchery of
- Log in to post comments
"The one in Pont Saint
- Log in to post comments
Beautiful vignette of such
- Log in to post comments
a very well deserved Cherry,
- Log in to post comments
;-) no problem. I took the
- Log in to post comments
Finally getting round to
- Log in to post comments