Well, second post of the day! I have become lazy of late, so I thought it was time to respond to the challenge at d’Verse today.
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
are removed, destroyed, restored.
Our ruined abbeys and churches are,
as a rule, only too well
tidied up and cleared.
Losing in the process
who can say how much of mystery
and nostalgic awe.
Dust in the air suspended
Marks the place where a story ended.
To create my poem, I have used a mix of poetry and Prose. Poetry from TS Eliot with lines from East Coker and Little Gidding, and the prose is from Dame Rose Macaulay’s Pleasure of Ruins. I’m not sure how well it works, but it was an interesting exercise! And, in the process, continued my earlier theme…