Thursday, 3 January 2013

Sonnet at 50


No chrome-gleaming Harley stands in the shed
To ride on the open road of past dreams.
No raven-haired mistress lies in the bed
To big-up my ego with passionate screams.
The marathon shoes stay firmly untied,
Mind is willing but body’s not able,
Promotion’s no longer a matter of pride,
Others can fight for the crumbs from that table.
Instead give me words, to fashion and polish,
To sharpen like blades being prepared for a fight,
Let them glint and crackle with each new flourish
To puncture the foolish and let in the light.
As the clock races past this dangerous age,
Let the mark that I make be a line on a page.


By Nick Le Messurier