FONDLY

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I may have mentioned my sister in Tasmania before. I missed her at the New Year [and yes, this blog has been a long time coming, due to computer problems…] but here is the poem I wrote for her.

 

FONDLY

The midnight hour approaches,

The bells resound at last,

And softly, softly, softly,

Comes the vision of the past.

*

Fondly, oh so fondly,

The long lost voices call,

That’s Father from his reading seat,

Mother busy in the hall.

*

She’s sweeping and she’s scrubbing,

While he’s puffing on his pipe

And dreaming of an amber glass

At the Duke of York tonight.

*

But the midnight hour is passing,

And the voices cease to call,

No Father lifts his amber glass,

No Mother strides the hall.

*

Just a child’s voice is calling,

To a child across the sea,

“Oh remember at this midnight hour,

To fondly think of me.”

 

Better late than never..and more to come.

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About rhymebydesign

Mother, grandmother, mainstream poet and short story writer. Started off in life as a teacher, but then moved out of the classroom in to educational administration. Curious about what makes people tick, including my own tickings! I enjoy long walks, thought provoking books, theatre and leading a simple life. I offer a customised poetry writing service for any occasion you might like to mark. Contact me at rhymebydesign@hotmail.com for a quick quote.

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