The House of Waiting

In the House of Waiting

The clock ceases ticking

The heart starts quickening

The postman never calls

There is no-one at the door

The bags are always packed

Too heavy to be dragged

The hour is never nigh

When happiness arrives

There is never enough time

To satisfy the mind

At night the clocks go slow

Big Ben echoes

Grief fills the void

Tears for those who died

Sorrow, sorrow stains the hour

For losses borne in sweetest flower

Hopes, regrets collide like stars

Suspended, dropping from afar

All to do is sit and wait

The House taps out its measured fate

Watery grave for a mobile phone

I threw my pain away one day

A thing of torture

Me its slave

A steady hand and

Plop! it went

In the Thames

Its life all spent

Free at last! My heart leapt fast

A cormorant looked on afar

Down to depths I’ll never know

The thing sank near

Swallowed whole

The next day I returned to see

The tide was out

Only shallows

And there upon the vast shoreline

A black and shiny small device

My reach had not stretched very wide

A futile last throw of the dice

In the debris there it lay

The very thing I yet would crave

Glistening in the wet sunshine

The metal gleamed as if it smiled

Far beyond my human grasp

It hides submerged with one more gasp

And so I’m plagued with yet more stress

Each time I pass this tidal stretch.

A mobile phone that never dies

Come to haunt me on the tide.

(words and image copyright Sally Gethin 2011)

The last time I saw Richard

Today I start this blog with a commemorative post as a tribute to my late great friend Richard Martin. It is exactly a year ago today that I last saw him before he sadly passed away in September of 2010. Richard was simply the best friend ever. For more pictures, go to: http://www.flickr.com/photos/artpops/4800861757/

THE LAST TIME I SAW RICHARD

The last time I saw Richard

I wore a yellow top and green skirt

The last time I saw Richard

I wore a green skirt and yellow top

And yellow earrings.

And he saw blue

The glass behind was blue

And he said

'Oh, I like that!'

And my glass was red

Filled with red

And I said

'Oh, I like that!'

But his eyes were grey

And fading

As he was tired

And ailing

Then I was hugged

But not by him

He stood aside

with his wide grin

And then we walked

And talked again

Of whom we knew

And things to do

And that was the last time

I saw you.