Thursday, 19 May 2011

A little later ...

Time passes and recoils upon itself
We see things as they think they are
That think we are immortal in the bud

But I feel the knife of time that
Strikes my friends away and turns the rose to dust

How pleasant smell those blooms at dawn
That fall to ground dancing in the wind
As all the world passes into dusk.

2 comments:

  1. Awww, you feeling a bit blue there Chumbs?

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  2. Thanks Michelle! A little blue but much more reflective; if it wasn't for some change in the age I'd've received my bus pass a couple of months ago. So getting a little reflective - which is not a bad thing. But the poem itself was rather more inspired by Dr Who - the Doctor's Wife episode - and William Blake whose deep symbolism I try to adopt, but probably without too much success! Even the rose, which is a very potent symbol in Blake, has a resonance in Dr Who (Billie Piper of course)... etc. etc.

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