Conor Dowd

Castle - Poem by Conor Dowd

On an Autumn afternoon
the lake reflects an image
of a tall, grey castle,
stubborn and immortal,
heavy with the weight of history,
a museum-piece of tragic memory.

Tall, quivering columns split the lake in pieces,
the looking-glass lake
and its great grey companion.

I stand hidden in the nearby trees
unseen by seeing eyes
but watched by eyes unseen
as time collapses and I close my eyes
and wait.

I open my eyes to the half-light of a dream
as four hundred years of stony sleep unwind...

Hands seem to grip swords,
heavy with purpose,
blunt from combat,
instruments of willpower and decision.

I see everything,
every wound and slight endured
by this mass of sound and stone,
this conduit to a past of forgotten voices.

And the hillsides echo with the sound of metal.

Maybe in a fantasy of transformation
this castle breathes a heavy sigh,
chained by gravity,
old an imprisoned to its history...

Only the dull drone of a passing car
reminds me that my watch has stopped,
the tide has turned,
and the day has departed.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Castle by Conor Dowd

There is no comment submitted by members..

Maya Angelou

Caged Bird

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: Saturday, October 14, 2006

Poem Edited: Saturday, October 16, 2010

[Report Error]