Dry Stone Walls Poem by Sailing to windward

Dry Stone Walls

Rating: 5.0

I stood waiting, looking through
the glass darkly, searching down that
lane, edged with dry stone walls
Walls that made me shiver.,
as time ushered time, slowly.

On quiet nights, the sheep ambled
on top of those walls,
the muffled clatter of loose stones
breaking my sleep,
sounding like thieves or murderers
preparing to enter my little cottage
on that Welsh mountain, below me.

On stormy nights the old bell
at the cottage door would sound,
and I stood, cold, uncomforted,
with bread knife and scythe under my bed
as that old bell rang itself, ghostly.

I stood waiting and looking through the glass
Until, when the light of day had gone,
(I don't recall the moment precisely)
and the window glass had become looking glass,
I no longer saw love being invoked easily.
I saw only my reflection, looking back, patiently.

John Raubenheimer 06 November 2011

I was drawn by the title - here in Yorkshire we have them too, dry stone walls. The rural images stirred me, your moments of subtle introspection.

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Miriam Maia Padua 02 November 2011

From your pen name itself...is poetry your title is flowing with depth and your thoughts put into a poem is really nice to read and the concept of the whole poem is very reflective and a wonderful write that make us ponder on the essence of life.. thanks for sharing.... in your works, I am learning too...

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Sailing to windward

Sailing to windward

52° 27' N / 9° 41' E
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