For the time being this blog will feature my efforts of poetry and verse. Without apology, some will be playful others angry, and some will upset.

A Dream Washed Up

 

She rests,

like a hundred others,

ignored and forgot.

Tricycle cradled,

blackberry wreathed

and thistle jeweled,

her complexion

blushed moulding green.

 

Just three

slow declining miles

from her riverside home.

Face pointed away,

eyes spider blind,

she succumbs to blister and rot

as other such

ornaments rust.

 

A dream

from a foundered romance.

A ragged reminder

Of time drifted by.

Love locked,

by rib, plank and quarter knee,

she sinks back

to the earth.

 

 

 

D L Hume 2nd Quarter 2017