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Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Every castle, someone's home...

This in response to Gooseberry Garden's prompt: Fortresses, Castles, Palaces, Royal Houses.

He was always finding places
you'd not have dreamed were there.
Once he found a grotto
hidden in The Silent Wood,
then Thursday last, the castle.
Sprawling edifice.
Him whooping mad for joy,
no way to calm him down,
insisted there and then
that I should take a look.

Big surprise, I can't deny.
Concentric style.
Machicolated parapets,
turrets by the score.
One turret had collapsed -
well, I expected that, and more.
A total ruin, truth to tell -
though I'd not say so to him.

But some big "do" was taking place.
The moat bone dry, a car park now,
every bay was occupied.
Expensive cars at that: Bugattis,
Rollers, Aston Martins, Mercs
and many more; the owners, squeezed
into a tiny courtyard by the keep
where an orgy in full spate
had dolly birds in various states
of full or part undress.

We'd got there in the nick
to see the final act.
(Glad then, we didn't miss...)
Twenty minutes. Half an hour.
No more before
the tide would knock it down.


cloudia charters said...

your imagination is rich, has reach

Warm Aloha from Honolulu
Comfort Spiral

> < } } (°>

Windsmoke. said...

Nice one :-).

The Elephant's Child said...

Yes, you had me full of awe and wonder. And then knocked me over with the incoming tide. Thanks for the ride.

Carl said...

It is one of the highlights of my day to get to read a new piece of Dave's poetry. So varied and brilliant. Thank you Sir!

Tabor said...

So a new tide sweeps clean.

Anonymous said...

So interesting--vivid and detailed but also mysterious, and cool relationship between"him" and the narrator. Leaves one with clear images butakso questions, that what make what came before even more vivid. K.

Tigerbrite said...

What a lovely story. Reminded me of the sandcastles and racetracks in the sand of my childhood.

Helen said...

You certainly know how to wind down a poem ... loved this!!!

Brian Miller said...

it is pretty cool to know someone that can find the little treasures of the world ...or the happening spots so you can see them even briefly before they are washed away...

A Cuban In London said...

A beautiful poem that reminded me of one of the castles we visited in Wales a couple of years ago. The car park used to be the moat. :-)

Greetings from London.

Tommaso Gervasutti said...

A sense of splendid precariousness and colour and downfall with, as ever, a great final line.

Ygraine said...

So surreal and evocative, I feel I'm actually there.
I'd certainly like to be!!

TARIQ MIAN said...

Dave King,
It's very nice poem.
I am back from vacationing.
See you around.
And enjoy good health.

Dave King said...

I like that. Thanks for it.

Cheers! And thanks.

The Elephant's Child
Sorry, but it's what I remember - the tide doing that to me when I was small and trying t make my way as an architect of castles.

Many thanks for these so kind words.

Indeed - if only it could do that now and again!

"Him" is a small boy, of course - but don't tell anyone: I only decided that after I'd written it.

Ah, those golden days!

Thanks a load. Good of you to say so.

Yup, I really do miss that little kid!

A Cuban in London
Sad, in a way, but many thanks for.

Thanks, your comments are always most welcome.

Yeah, I wouldn't mind, come to think of it!

Thanks for comment and good wishes. Great to have you back again.