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Open Poetry #48

The last lock

MICHELMAS
Member

since 2012-02-15

Posts 305
Lancashire England

0 posted 2012-07-13 04:02 AM

The last lock

His gnarled fingers untied the blackened rope
Long shadows no more where chimneys used to stand
Dawn warms the ice and gives the day some hope
Distant now the Shires once polished brass so grand
The distance travelled measured by lock gates
Many miles are etched upon his leathered face
For that last gate the pearly one he waits
Whilst water pours no more will to win the race
Whispered smoke just lingers a story told
Varnished decks reflect the red and green so bright
Twinkle in his eyes never to be old
Thoughts within the tunnel see the point of light
Soul mate memories no-one else to thank
Weeping silent tears 'neath willows on the bank

[This message has been edited by MICHELMAS (07-13-2012 06:22 AM).]

Scooter
Member

since 2012-07-10

Posts 68

1 posted 2012-07-13 05:45 AM

Such tenderness and compassion, Michael. Waiting for the end, because that is all he feels he can do.

"The way to crush the bourgeoisie is to grind them between the millstones of taxation and inflation."-Vladimir Lenin

JerryPat2
Member Laureate

since 2011-02-06

Posts 16975
South Louisiana

2 posted 2012-07-13 05:55 AM

Very nice wording.

~*~ If they give you lined paper, write sideways. ~*~

Startime1955
Senior Member

since 2012-04-22

Posts 1072
Alberta, Canada

3 posted 2012-07-13 09:28 AM

*sigh* a tender poem that brought a tear to the eye...your words are filled with gentle understanding...beautiful...*BIG HUGS*

*may our dreams ever be magical*

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