Broken Dream
Have you ever felt young again, then realised you are growing old?
*The Old Man of Calke is a very old oak tree in Calke Parkland UK.
Broken Dream
Sun bussed, she flaunts
white broderie anglaise
with ruby flares.
Hippy beads drape her neck
like a berry wreath.
Westerlies fan; she strides
through the garden,
in first bloom,
stoops to inhale
an Old Yellow Scotch.
Dark blotches blemish
its leaves like her hands.
Clouds veil the sun.
Limping now through woodlands.
she is drawn towards ancient trees,
saplings when Vikings invaded.
Once slender fingers reach out
to the gnarled arms
of *Old Man of Calke.
© capricorn 2023
Views: 2416
Lovely to read you again Eira! 😉 You write so beautifully, capturing the beauty in sorrow, for there is beauty in all things if we have eyes to see, as you do. The total connection to nature and the seasons tugged at my heart. I can so relate. She is young inside, always but she is also forced to confront her mortality too, so she is drawn to the older trees almost as though she may be able by sheer strength of will to gain some of their longevity. Her hippy attire in contrast, almost an act of defiance, to… Read more »
It’s lovely to hear from you, Alison. Thank you so much for the nom – made my day! I’ve been away for too long. I don’t write so much these days, too busy with house renovations, but I thought of UK Authors and found this great new site. You’ve understood this poem very well (you always do). Yes I believe there is beauty in everything even aging (and death) I love it if I can bring nature into a poem too. I am so pleased this has moved you. I will be back again as I have a few old… Read more »
I too was moved by this, it pleases on so many levels. I get what Alison was saying in her comment. For me it also spoke of joy, that she has lived a life. The beads speak of a world I too lived in, a joyful time of please and love. She had found a retreat from the brash new world, somewhere to end her days with her memories. Did I say I loved it
Mike
Hi Mike,
I’m so pleased you were also moved by this and I loved reading your interpretation. I feel we all read different things in a poem and I agree that this shows a retreat from the brash new world.
Thank you so much for your comments
Eira
Loved every beautiful word, and could see so clearly the sadness of her lost youth, trees are so strong and can offer great comfort. The description of her clothes was superb. Sue.
Hi Sue,
I’m so pleased to hear you loved every word of this. Lost youth can be sad. I love trees, I find them fascinating -the colours and shapes etc.
Thank you so much for your comments.
Eira
This is a well-written and linguistically rich poem. I like it. Not sure I understand “sun bussed” though…
Hi -thanks Archie. Sun bussed means sun-kissed – caressed by he sun.
Eira
You might want to change this to ‘ poetry’, Eira. As it is, under ‘general’, people may miss out on reading if scanning for poems.
😉 x