A Garret Poet

Photo by Said on

Form: Interlocking Rubaiyat

The road weaves gently to the sea
With houses set in groups of three
Between each of the curving bends
To the beach café serving tea

Writing the postcards that she sends
To her many long distant friends
None she has ever met or seen
Postcards written as her heart mends

With no what if’s or might have been
The cold night air is rolling in
And the youthful moon comes to shine
The stars reflect another scene

The night he said “sweet darling mine”
His kiss before he sailed the brine
His ship went down, he’ll not come back
And she walks home alone to dine


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2 thoughts on “Postcards

    1. Thank you xx One of Nana’s stories she used to tell a kiddie me, how true it is – she could tell a yarn – so don’t know


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