A Nonet with feelings from a funeral yet to happen. -7th November 2012.


Out of bounds.

For the final hour I walk this path;
Cobbled stone in powerful drift.
Church bells softly churn rhythm
And crowds suddenly shift.
I just have to leave
Before I'm found.
No more life;
Out of
Bounds.



Poetry by John Ashleigh
Read 633 times
Written on 2012-11-07 at 14:27

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Nils Teodor The PoetBay support member heart!
Well written
I enjoyed reading
your poem
Thanks for sharing
N T
2012-11-11


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Great write, John. Even the physical structure of this poem drives the point home. Well done.

Joe
2012-11-09



Another fine write, John.
There is a subtlety to this piece that I rate very highly. Here we have a perfect blend of shape and substance, a fading promenade until the final hour sounds.
Very much enjoyed; applaudeth.
2012-11-07


shells
I just love this, your third line is superb. To me it feels like a funeral?? As though I have walked that path.
2012-11-07