Raymond Friel

Stations Of The Heart - Poem by Raymond Friel

Under a canopy of Roman pines
we found his grave: a 'young English poet'.
Slumped on the bench with somnolent cats,
we breathed pine-scented air, slurry with wine.
A tarnished lily leant on the gravestone,
a touch that Oscar Wilde would have loved
here in the 'holiest place in Rome'
where he lay prostrate in utter devotion.

Thousands queued at the doorframes of judgement.
Heat shimmered on the swell of cobblestones.
Under the facade of eternal law,
haunted still by that improvised grace -
aching, lugubrious, borean -
I prayed for a heart fit for the scrutiny.

Comments about Stations Of The Heart by Raymond Friel

  • (11/19/2009 3:06:00 PM)

    Ray, I hope that you are keeping well. I heard from some of the 'Aberdeen crowd' that you were writing poetry so I did a search. Although you were a few years ahead, our paths did cross a few times. Good to see that you have kept true to your talents. Regards Paul McGrath (Report) Reply

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  • (4/10/2008 3:45:00 PM)

    Well done! Full and rich and so detailed. I can almost feel as though I'm there at Oscar Wilde's grave (one of my favourite writers) (Report) Reply

  • (4/10/2008 2:47:00 PM)

    I haven't got a clue what this is about, so why then should I like it so much?
    Well crafted poem
    Love duncan X
    (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, April 10, 2008

Poem Edited: Friday, July 15, 2011

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