The Portal.
I stood beside the garden wall,
as night-shadows began to fall,
and quiet it was,
to stop and think,
and write a novel,
without ink.
The sky was clear,
and to the eye
The Dipper
and Venus
were so bright,
and standing there
I felt so small
by the ivy
on the wall.
The Myrtle swayed,
and in the breeze,
painted shadows,
like a frieze,
that danced and stilled,
and then I saw
portraits of those who’d gone
before.
My mother’s doe eyes
were upon me,
and gazed from
branches of a tree,
and father was there,
and my spaniel as well;
how they got there
I cannot tell.
I stood beside the garden wall,
and standing there, I felt quite small.
What did my people
come to show?
I pondered the question,
but didn’t know.
A glimpse of heaven
had come to say
we live to see
another day.
Copyright Suzy Davies 21/08/2017. All Rights Reserved.