| |
For Elizabeth
I remember the day the King was dead.
Midday school closing, we walked, my mother
And I, hand in hand to the hilltop fort,
Struggling against the biting winter wind
Of a Port Elizabeth afternoon.
We sat on a bench looking at the ships
In the tiny harbour, flags half-masted
And I felt, no sensed, my mother's sadness.
Six year's old, I saw you for the first time
In flickering darkened cinema images
And sensed in my soul your depth of pain.
Tonight, on a coloured screen, I watched you,
Fifty years on, being borne in state
Through the crowded, silent streets of London,
And still remembering my childhood tears
I cried, once again, unashamedly.
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Work from Poetry
|
|