Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

uninvited (Remove filter)

Recent Comments

Marla Joy on Lions Land.
6 minutes ago

Greg Freeman on Dominoes
25 minutes ago

M.C. Newberry on Combe Gibbet
1 hour ago

Ian Whiteley on Citizens
1 hour ago

M.C. Newberry on Sashaying to Byzantium
1 hour ago

M.C. Newberry on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
1 hour ago

Auracle on Festive FM
2 hours ago

Tim Higbee on Grandfather
3 hours ago

TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
4 hours ago

R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
7 hours ago

The Voyager's Song

The Voyager's Song

 

I see the shoreline,

black and unremarked

sleeping in secret, supine,

an open door, strong

as a broad Yorkshire

voice,

weak as rags of sea mist.

 

Soon I shall fetch upon its sands,

where cold silence reigns

uninvited like the early dawn.

 

Beside me shall burn,

in isolation and awe,

the last bright flower

of an ancient memory...

Read and leave comments (1)

aweisolationmemoryorchidsshorelinesilencesojournsongsupineuninvitedYorkshire

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message