Goodness knows where this poem came from. It is about somebody who has died, but not a real memory.... I wrote it lying in the bath and I was, for some obscure reason thinking about Lizzie Siddal and Ophelia. Well, I suppose the connection is fairly obvious, but it's not something I usually think about in the bath. I guess that got me thinking about dying and this is what I ended up with - a sort of reverse Ophelia. Sorry, that sounds like a load of rubbish!
The water grows cold around me
As I gaze out the window
At the rapidly darkening sky
And I remember you
And the first time we met
How you smiled at me
How you took my hand
And the last time I saw you
How you smiled at me
How you took my hand
Closed your eyes
And said goodbye
No comments:
Post a Comment