Near Llangollen

Cherry

By Pat G

Sun, 31 May 2015
  • 1177 reads
8 comments
 

Eyes move to the mirror,

Shift again to the road ahead;

 

Heavy walls define the route.

It leads to surfing storms,

Currents and fierce swells.

 

But in the seething hills

Lies an impossible, tempting turn.

 

It was made by hard men, tough 

Ponies and fierce dogs 

In the miles of dry-stone labour,

 

Lost to those following the sun.

 

Risk the quaking mirror

For the briefest glimpse 

Up a lane; ancient-beech green,

Treacherous in the wet, soft 

In the dry, at a guess.

 

At a guess, two hundred 

Degrees past due west;

 

An impossible, tempting turn.

 

I will never creep between

Those tall trees, rise towards

The threatening clouds. Remember; 

Stones do not give.

Certificate U
Poem
Inspiration Point (work that responds to our weekly writing cue)

Comments

Submitted by socialeaf on

Gosh, I like this. Everything it in is so alive. The sea, the land, the choices. Lovely! 

 

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you!

Submitted by Bee on

Beautiful. The ending can be taken in different ways.

Bee

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you Bee.

Submitted by Stephen Thom on

very lovely, perfectly formed and full of interpretive possibilities. part. liked the repetition of 'at a guess', 'lost to those following the sun' and the resonating 'stones do not give'. great piece :-)

 

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you Stephen. Much appreciated.

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

Wonderfully atmospheric, striking images, mysterious.

Submitted by Pat G on

Thank you 'Philip'