When the robin stopped singing
In the candleberry tree
The song had not gone. It
Was the bird that had flown.
He had left there the song.
She fastened the window.
She pulled down the blind
Would the song come to mind?
Would the song of the robin
Come now to her mind?
She opened the presents
Wrapped up in new ribbons.
______
gw2011
enjoyed these Gwilym
ReplyDeletejohn
Loved it Gwilym - very Christmassy - can't help feeling there is a deeper meaning in there somewhere. (I always think this with your poetry!)
ReplyDeleteJohn,
ReplyDeletethanks.
Pat,
also thanks, and you will now understand them quite a bit more because I've removed working titles and given them meaningful titles - maybe I don't even understand the unplumbed depths myself - it's a paradox whatever it is
Good jog? You're a brave man. Don't you worry about ice buildup in your lungs?
ReplyDeleteThese are lovely. They have the feel of verses from an old ballad, the complete meaning of which will be revealed in the sixth verse, in a cryptic turn.
What a great rhythm to this and the previous poem.
ReplyDeleteAre we in for a set?
Mairi,
ReplyDeleteThank you very much. Fortunately it's not yet cold enough for ice build-up in the ancient lungs - as the song says: February makes me shiver.
Gordon,
Thanks also. A series? Have to see how it goes. A theme I have in mind anyway.
the song remains, as long as you remember to listen.
ReplyDeletethat was sweet.
CC, also a seasonal reminder, many thanks!
ReplyDelete