Rookie - 282 Points (01/01/1966 / BIRMINGHAM)

A View From The Park Bench - Poem by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

Upon this old familiar bench
From which I've spent a time or two,
Just gazing at the sky above
And watching chestnut trees,
Which change throughout the seasons
Now their copper leaves do fall,
Which gather on this stony path
And tossed upon the breeze.

For scattered far across the field
And through the air with random flee,
From every bough it seems to pluck
Until each one is bare,
Now soon the winter shall be here
With icy chills the frosts and snow,
When I'll not stop but carry on
And find no comfort there.

Upon this bench so old and worn
That's scrawled and etched on every slat,
And smeared with food from yesterday
Yet still to me so kind,
For here within my solitude
Away from all the toil and spite,
I'll take my time to look around
While others seem so blind.

Within this park the children play
Upon the swings the slide and frame,
And run around upon the grass
Just like I used to do,
But now so many years have passed
And older but no wiser I,
And wish I had my youth again
Reliving days I knew.

Upon this bench I sit and wait
And as the people pass me by,
Some of them do speak to me
Some look the other way,
Yet here the grass shall always grow
Beneath my tired and aching feet,
A friendly place I call my own
Where often I do stay.

I long for daffodils of spring
To watch them all come into flower,
When blossom blooms upon the bough
Such beauty there to see,
Then listen to the birds that sing
As if for me their sweet refrains,
And I alone shall hear them all
Each golden melody.

Upon this bench on which I rest
I think how many things have changed,
Yet here it almost seems the same
As times of long ago,
St. Mary's there still proudly stands
And in the morning sun does shine,
As ages passed it's witnessed all
And seen the village grow.

Now as I make my way back home
And walk along this stony path,
Adorned by scattered copper leaves
That through the autumn fell,
I know I shall return again
To lose myself within the view,
And watch the seasons changing
From the bench where I shall dwell.

Comments about A View From The Park Bench by ANDREW BLAKEMORE

  • (10/2/2011 11:56:00 AM)

    Fantastically structure and beautiful imagery...great poetry.
    (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    3 person did not like.
  • Ernestine Northover (11/29/2009 2:31:00 PM)

    This is delightful Andrew, I could picture it all by your wonderful imagery. Good rhythm and flow, and a super read.
    Love and hugs Ernestine XXX
    (Report) Reply

  • (8/7/2009 1:15:00 AM)

    Andrew, this really is a lovely and reflective poem. The moments you describe feed our soul with natures love. To quote ' What is this life if, full of care, /
    We have no time to stand and stare'. So we can in our solitude: -

    For oft, when on my couch I lie
    In vacant or in pensive mood,
    They flash upon that inward eye
    Which is the bliss of solitude;
    And then my heart with pleasure fills,
    And dances with the daffodils.

    Most people can quote the first verse of Wordsworths daffodils, but I love the last
    stanza as it is the real reason for the poem. Solitude would have been a better title, but then perhaps nobody would have heard of it.

    I thought your poem was just as beautiful and have taken a copy to read again.

    regards Bob
    (Report) Reply

  • (10/7/2008 8:21:00 AM)

    I felt as though I too was sitting on the bench, so good is the magery in this poem, its good to sit and watch the world go by,
    Lynda xx
    (Report) Reply

  • (6/16/2008 9:00:00 PM)

    Andrew, this really hit my heart, as I too love to sit and ponder about a place so near and dear in my heart. Your imagery is so filled with contentment, that it leaves the reader with such a tranquil feeling.... I too have a bench from my youth, and it will remain in my heart for always...... Excellent my friend! ! (Report) Reply

  • (2/25/2008 3:35:00 PM) you know about my special bench, sounds as if you were talking about the very place where I have often sat, , It's at a place called Tory in Bradford On Avon and from there
    are the most stunning veiws

    Thankyou for this one and for the lovely reminder

    Love duncan X
    (Report) Reply

  • (2/6/2008 9:51:00 AM)

    Hi Andrew! Nice write, it's good to have a special spot, for thoughts and dreams
    they mean a lot!
    best wishes Friend Thad *10*! ! !
    (Report) Reply

Read all 7 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, February 6, 2008

Poem Edited: Thursday, July 4, 2013

Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]