| |
Above the lonely market dawn
The sun begins to rise,
And slowly makes its way into
The glowing ember skies,
Amidst the clouds of burning gold
And scarlet which now pass,
Across the heavens high above
My sadness stays alas.
And now I stand there all alone
And watch the morning light,
Creep over all the rooftops and
Consume the dead of night,
It shines upon the sleeping town
Where calmness fills the air,
And lights the dark and empty stalls
With metal frames so bare.
The pigeons rest on rooftops while
The litter's strewn around,
The remnants of the day before
Lie restless on the ground,
The paper cups and cans do roll
Upon the breeze that blows,
And come to rest against a wall
Behind those empty rows.
So still the rising morning now
The shadows long and dark,
The cold and empty marketplace
Deserted and so stark,
I walk alone with heavy heart
Beyond the barren square,
And look towards the church ahead
Its loneliness I share.
ANDREW BLAKEMORE
|
|
User Rating: |
|
9.9
/10
(7 votes) |
|
|
|
ANDREW BLAKEMORE
E-mail this poem to e friend