Without You I Am Everything – A Poem by Paul Tristram
Boundary walls and prison fences
crumbled down and fell apart.
The Gothic Chapel
which was forever preaching
‘Doom’ and ‘Gloom’
and its ‘Woe, Woe & Thrice Woe’
took down its dusty old, heavy curtains
and opened up the stained-glass windows
for a Spring-clean jumble sale.
I noticed beautiful, multi-coloured
wild flowers popping up everywhere
in the once shadowy graveyard.
Song birds reappeared
from their long, Winter migration.
The orchards once more became bountiful,
not quite overnight,
yet quick enough for wonderment.
There was nothing for it but to eat fresh fruit,
instead of doubt and humble pie for a change.
I dared look at my own reflection, un-timidly,
and saw that my eyes once more had colour.
The Land’s currency was ‘Smiles’
and no kindness or act of good faith
was ever too much trouble
and always rewarded three-fold.
But, best of all… the Clocks,
returned to a proper, functioning speed, at last.
More at https://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.
