A Guided Tour. Poem by sylvia spencer

A Guided Tour.

Rating: 5.0


I was once full of chivalry but now I am neglected
as my heart breaks over the land I protected.
In my prime I was as nobel as a king but now I am
just an old tourist thing.They tread my battlements
and tour my keep, every day being taken round by
a guide just like a shepherd with his sheep.
Gone are the days when arrows were flying and all
I could see was the enemy dying.Bolders flying and
cannons crashing but that's all gone and my hopes
are dashing.
I am just an old castle but I still have a heart so for a
short while I would like to relive my start
I was built on a hill over looking the land, with granite
and stone I looked so grand. I fought in wars and my did
duty then I became part of plunder and booty.
Those were the days of Barons and Earls and as time
went on they wore wigs with curls.
I started to fall when Nelson was at sea, while he fought at
Trafalgar no one bothered about me.
I had been robbed of my stone to build homes and walls
just robbing me blind, those selfish fools.
Now I stand as a monument of time protected by National
Trust so I don't decline.I have stood for centuries in a world
of my own but now I am trapped in my winter with grass
and stone. I'll never be able to fight again because now I
am being conquered by wind and rain. I now have to build
my castle's in the air because all what's left is tourism and
despair.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Scarlett Treat 27 October 2006

As the old saying goes - if these walls could speak! Well, you made them speak to me. How lovely!

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Dee Daffodil 18 October 2006

I love castles, and one day hope to visit a couple...love this poem...love the perspective... Hugs, Dee

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Ernestine Northover 14 October 2006

Wonderful subject, the castle with so many memories. Lovely story again, such a delightful read. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX

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Francesca Johnson 14 October 2006

And what wonderful tales those old walls could tell! They still send out an atmospheric feeling as we walk round and admire what's left of those majestic old castles. Great poem, Sylvie. Love, Fran xxx

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Sandra Fowler 14 October 2006

What a wonderful, nostalgic piece. The old castle speaks and the world is listening, Sylvia. Love, Sandra

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