The Old Man

Reads: 167  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 4

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
memories about an old man

Submitted: March 27, 2008

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 27, 2008

A A A

A A A


Old and dusty coats he had
He walked so lightly
Spoke so clear
 
With quickest wit he turned to me
And as he said
’I’m alive my babe’
I felt the cold coming from his folded arms
 
And whatever charm he made on them
I always knew he loved them more
Than they loved their own bold kind
 
He was the father of the young
The king of children from the past
The one who still remembered tales
That rusted in the cupboard of some
Ancient-rooted family tree
 
He stopped and looked around to smell
The sound of merry folks
With frenzy eyes and a weary sigh
He went on with a frown that made me smile
 
A golden watch he kept
Deep in his pocket
To measure the steps of will and wish
A selfish thing to do
Counting the fairy dreams of men
Spent his life on vain moments
Without a hint of happiness
 
Soft and white his skin did seem
And gleamed like porcelain
 
In that face I could sense a meadow
Green and yellow flowers scattered
All around. And the ground felt
Smooth and fresh
Like the first word
Uttered by a baby’s mouth
To bring some pride to his mother’s heart
 
And even when he slept that peace
That cannot shake one up again
That foolish state of where and when
I knew for sure he spoke to us
And told some truth
We would never understand


© Copyright 2017 Ama. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Unknown