Bravely to the waiting breach

Growing old, really old,

Should have been your option

Growing old, really, really old

And your life not put to auction.

Growing old and growing out,

Still somehow wired and ultimately required

To live like the cannon ball, shattering, crashing

Fired, t’ward a target desired.

Slowing cold, really cold,

Locked away in bricks or wood

Slowing cold, really, really cold

And it’s taken all the good.

Slowing cold, to death and breath

And bold and bravely to the waiting breach

And to all of us each,

Who wished you like the splendid sun,

Not in darkness out of reach.

Grant Fenton, 29 August 2017

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

A WordPress.com Website.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: