Warwick Castle – Friday evening in May

by poetrydiary

Ramparts against ebbing light;
clouds like sands.
Is this a fairytale come true
or folly on the beach?

Denying time and space;
towers like hands.
Holding this hill and place;
too much to teach.

Laughter dulls against your stones;
gates like frowns.
Fashion passes by and dies,
silent walls impeach.

Lost in time, waiting for wars,
which passed like thieves.
You can’t move, cannot change;
you’re far beyond my reach.


The light and clouds yesterday were fantastic, above the castle walls, and looked just like the pattern you get on beaches, after the tide goes out. (I play tennis next to Warwick Castle most weeks. This time we lost our tennis match 6/0 6/3, but I can’t blame the distraction for that.)

Submitted to Jingle Poetry Potluck. This is one of an occasional series on castles I’ve been doing since last year.