Poetry

For the Queen

Poetry

My mother could have been a queen
But for the crown, but for the #blood

And she would have comforted a nation
Would have laughed, in royal shades
And cried in lavender hues, born blue

~Now the country stills

For a queen
That could have been my mother
Sister, daughter, friend

I do not cry
For monarchy, no

But for the woman
Who wore a crown
And held a nation
Like a babe at breast

And when all should faulter
Might shed a tear and weep
For her duty

For there is wealth
Spread vast between our worlds
But our hearts are one

#RIPQueenElizabeth

~G S Scribbles~

The void

Poetry

They call it the void
The shadow realm
That calls to us
When all light goes out

The surrender
The silence
For we know darkness
Do we not?

It is the ghost
That never leaves
The hand that grasps
That cradles loneliness

And we have grown
So comfortable
With monsters
We barely fear it

But we must fear it
For its embrace is final
Its kiss cold
But it is winter

This night, so very long.

~G S Scribbles

Irene

Poetry

There are ashes on the mantle
A cut silhouette of a man by the fire
Yearning in his bones
An empty heart in his pocket

~All spent on her

He remembers her on mother’s days
Longs for her on Sundays
His forever love, sitting on the mantle
Waiting for him

Ashes come to ashes
Love turns back to dust
Reunited on the mantle
A final act of trust

There are ashes in the wind

~G S Phillips~

(The poem ‘Irene’ Belongs to me, G S Phillips, it is subject to UK copyright law, please do not copy or redistribute without my permission.)