POEM TITLE The Village
POEM
Old Max is humming a tune,
While Davie talks to a lass at the bar.
I can’t help but think of how all too soon,
This memory will be like a distant star.
The Lobster Pot walls have stood for years,
Separating us old men,
From the streets and nearby piers,
Urchins would have called “home” way back when.
The castle still stands tall,
Overlooking the sea,
Where enemies would plan attacks big and small,
While the men inside would plot how to remain free.
And though Blackness on Sea may be tiny,
The flowers bloom brighter,
The sun appears more shiny,
And the snow falls whiter.
Archie stirs me from my nap,
Telling me he needs to borrow a key.
He asks “Are you alright chap?”,
And I reply,
“Aye mate, there’s no where else I’d rather be.
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