Swift as an arrow

Swift as an arrow to the heart 
marking the start of a new adventure, 
cleft like a tree trunk
deft as a dart
of pleasure, pain or censure.

Soft as the rain at eventide,
mists of the midnight masses
gathering under the church to hide
as the congregation passes.

Feathered and framed in a picture book
sky from the realms of story
read in some cosy inglenook
still trailing gleams of glory.

Etched in the evening epilogue
to a story often told
soft, by an ancient pedagogue
in terms one might term bold.

See where the strands of story lead
over the river rapids
carving out coves in bank, and bed
beneath our rippling eyelids.

2025

I’ve not been around much on WordPress recently: very hectic summer and lots going on behind the scenes. But I’m determined to have a new poetry book out by the end of the year. Watch this space!

Ingrid

Image by Kev from Pixabay