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.