there was, O e'er,
an awkwardness
a-twixt stepfather and me
until a hegira of sorts
a camp upon a hillside glebe
the stars bespeckled
a night becalmed
within the shelter of the trees
we spake, we twain
until, forsooth,
the dawning of the morrow's light
of love and life, of joy,
of giving o'er in sacrifice
sharing stories sharing woes
our struggles and our strife
today he is fourscore and three
and shall fore'er remain
as he lay now upon his bed
a-light within death's bower
and I within his glim a-sputter
am stayed in deathly dour
still I recall that steep ascent
yea, I recall those hours
A/N this was written for a challenge ( The Poets' Pub) to write a poem in an archaic style
YOU ARE READING
Love in all its Colours
Poetrya spectrum of deeply felt personal relationships, of meaningful selflessness and reciprocity "not always pretty not always fun not just for the young"
