within a pock, a lonely copse
a one-time proudly standing duke
lay collapsed a pearly corpse
strewn, now stretched across a dyke
no mortar, stone or brick to budge
a single chain links an area
no sleeves rolled blueprint for this bridge
it's not as grand as Knaresborough
growing moss along its course
this felted dew-born viaduct
where mice, voles and squirrels cross
the span, the trickle of a brook
wind savage sword angrily killed the ogre
leaving a gnarled, lost and forgotten auger
I put this poem on PoetrySoup, here's a comment 'Sadness at the collapse and death of this duke. A soldier felled, a corpse from the copse. I like your writing style, Clive.'
Thanks for reading my poem and taking the time to comment, very kind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another comment from PoetrySoup 'Wow! Thanks for sharing your work.'