Come December I will travel
To a bucolic and shy place.
Amongst leisure and peer babel,
Oblivion will waltz with grace.
It will inform time in great haste
And leave my chestnut hair windswept
By train hum, street lamps, and the taste
Of wine brick held up by neglect.
These moments will soon carry dust,
Tucked away in a box for years,
Until my kids smell attic musk
Asking, "Mom, is Harlow near here?"
Frances Macaulay Forde
Mon 17th Jul 2017 01:15
Congratulations on 'Poem of the Week'. Well deserved. ?
Looking forward to some British inspired poems during your stay here. Congratulations on POTW
patricia Hughes
Sun 16th Jul 2017 11:22
Congratulations Michaela,beautiful poem.
<Deleted User> (13762)
Wed 12th Jul 2017 07:53
Oh you'll have a great time Michaela and only a short train ride into London. As Ray said - thrive with an open mind ?
So sorry Micheala. I'm sure you will benefit from your studies wherever they may be so ignore my prejudices. I love the poem in any case and may you thrive with your young fresh open mind - one that I envy!
Ray
Actually i dont have a choice but to go there! My degree has a requirement we go study there for two months 'come december' ?
I really enjoyed the whole mood of this piece, as it takes us to a future and then back to the future's past. Cleverly conceived and subtle use of metaphor. Harlow is not to be recommended as a place to visit (the new town that is). I played there in a band at the town hall and it was full of compatriots. A very mature mind at work here.
Ray
If you wish to post a comment you must login.
This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.
Louis Audet
Thu 20th Jul 2017 01:17
Always love seeing Canadians on here .. keep up the vivid words!!!!!