TRIP TO WINDSOR CASTLE POEM 44

While the seasons fade, stone and bronze age slowly. A statue seems to stand forever, as well as the castle walls. A symbol as well as a likeness. Words also seem to last forever, as they imprint the mind as well as the page.

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“We are sometimes so happy, and never in our lives have we known more unhappiness. It’s as if we were working together on the same statue, cutting it out of each other’s misery. But I don’t even know the design.” Graham Greene

Monument

I write a poem for you,

A monument of a moment,

Frozen in time,

Captivated by an instant.

The depths of you,

Are to be found in

The superficial,

A hardened edge of you.

There are so many aspects,

To be seen,

And yet you remain,

A puzzle to decipher.

To where do you look?

So austere and proud,

That generations will,

Wonder at you.

“As bronze may be much beautified by lying in the dark damp soil, so men who fade in dust of warfare fade fairer, and sorrow blooms their soul.” Wilfred Owen