sepia
as I awakenedfrom the deepest sleep
I rubbed my eyes
not just to arouse myself
from my silent drowsyness
but because the world
or
to be more accurate
my world
seemed to me as if it had turned to sepia
in my sleep
yet not quite the sepia of old family photos
on outings to the sea
or of my grand-dad all decked out
in his new uniform
for the so-called Great War
a Prince of Wales South-West Lancashire Volunteer
whence he returned
ever silent
but growing things to show me in his garden
no the sky
or at least the clouds through my window world
were the palest tint of olive green
it quite startled me
not because it was loud in any way
but quite the opposite
the light was quiet
and everything in my garden and street
into which I peered cautiously
was tinged with a darkly light olive greyness
I sat transfixed
and as the linden tress waved to and frow
back and forth
in their sepia green
of my newly sepia world
I wondered what it would be like
never to see colours again
where rainbows would be sepia
and the eyes of those I loved
if all the world were sepia
not colourless
but colourful
not colour blind
nor blinded by colour
just one colour
sepia
Poetry by Peter Humphreys
Read 813 times
Written on 2010-05-31 at 22:42
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text|
normalil |
|
Stan Cooper |
|
jenks |
| Texts |
 by Peter Humphreys Latest textslifethe grey green sea emboldened beyond beyond we knelt |
Increase font
Decrease