Poem Hunter
Abridged Version For Doc Wilde
IOI (7/4/1934 / Hebburn.Co Durham U.K)

Abridged Version For Doc Wilde

The sun across the lake sinks low.
The birds have sung their even song.
The hills still basking in the glow
of crimson rays which wont last long.
The night is falling rapidly
reminding men that day is done.
The night winds sing their songs softly,
the time for toil is past and gone.

The curtains drawn against the night.
The family sits comfortably
bathed in the glow of firelight.
Mother is knitting busily
the children squabble as they play.
Father is nodding sleepily
so ends another working day.
A scene familiar to me.

From memories of childhood days.
Which I suppose we all recall
but memory scant attention pays
to truth if anything at all
We can ignore the poverty
the hardships which we underwent.
Create a false reality
the truth mislaid without intent.


User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 3 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

The past is often idealized. But I guess we need that feeling of security when we face the unknown, i.e. present reality.
Abounding with pleasant images, this is a warm hearted poem if ever I read one. Put me right in there by the fireplace, cozy and content. Thanks for this quaint little scene of family life at its best. Lovely read, Ivor. Linda xx
Perhaps because of their familiarity, the images and scenes come alive in mind's eye...nice write...Coach
A wonderful poem Ivor! Right from the heart! Lovely to read thank you! ! ! *10*! ! Best regards Friend Thad