Home
ABOUT US
Recent Posts
- Bygone Days and Relative Treats.
- A Tribute To Tina Turner by Harriet Blackbury
- My Rescue Tabby Cat
- Bubble & Squeak
- A Tribute To Burt Bacharach by Harriet Blackbury
- The Turning Year (Catching Up) by Harriet Blackbury
- A Tribute to Jeff Beck by Harriet Blackbury
- Old Memory Lane
- Some Memories of Lamont Herbert Dozier
- A Tribute to Olivia Newton-John by Harriet Blackbury
Recent Comments
- Back And Forth on
- Back And Forth on
- Pitch Perfect on
- Pitch Perfect on
- For The Love Of Music on
Categories
- Animals (73)
- Family Life (285)
- Friendship and Trust (127)
- General information (3)
- Hope and Encouragement (169)
- Irony / Inevitability (140)
- Justice / Revenge (30)
- Laughter & Tears (32)
- Life/Living (196)
- Music (329)
- Nature (2)
- Nonsensical Madness (186)
- Obituary / Memorial (55)
- Radio (133)
- Reviews (7)
- Romance (220)
- Sport (144)
- Sunday Poems (15)
- Uncategorized (1)
POEM ARCHIVE
ONLINE SERVICES
BOOKS
Contact Us
Useful Links
January 4, 2014
Two lonely, only children,
each in their bedrooms, unable to sleep.
Both standing at their windows,
opposite each other, a vigil to keep.
Each night around eight thirty,
these two young faces appeared,
taking comfort in each other,
from a world of isolation they feared.
First one would give a gentle wave,
from his side of the back street,
followed by a wave from her,
standing on oilcloth in her bare feet.
Their expressions not distinguishable,
only outlined silhouette shapes,
could be recognised by moonlight,
from inside their hanging drapes.
This became a nightly ritual,
each shivering in dressing gowns,
until, when comforted by visual contact,
they retreated under their eiderdowns.
No Comments »
No comments yet.
RSS feed for comments on this post.
Leave a comment
You must be logged in to post a comment.