Sunday, July 10, 2011

FOR BONNIE - R.I.P.

I am not a poet. Apart from the odd bits of doggerel composed for birthday cards and special occasions, I leave poetry to others more talented. But sometimes I am moved, or inspired, and only poetry will serve. This one tempted a competition judge into assuming I had higher – or deeper – thoughts in mind than was really the case.

I used to take the neighbours’ dog for walks through the bush, and I would say "walk with me" when I wanted her to keep close by in some of the darker, denser parts of the bush, for both her safety and mine. Once, after such a walk, on a day when a local poetry competition entry was due, I wrote this. It won, to the fury of the real poets who had entered the same competition. Just goes to show … something or other.


WALK WITH ME
Frost crackles a warning
underfoot

The path ahead
unknown
untrodden
obscured by shadows

Walk with me

towards the estuary
shimmering
hiding - who knows what

Walk with me

into glades
boney, fingering trees
and menacing shapes

The nor-west arch
gleams like a promise

Walk with me

2 comments:

  1. Thanks Mike - appreciate the thought. I normally leave poems to the Poets!

    ReplyDelete