Writings and Witterings


Leave a comment

You’re far, far away
Across the sea
Gradually becoming
A stranger to me.

Trinkets you left
Talismans all
To remember you by
And break my fall
Into the pit
The quagmire of fear …
You have left
But I’m still here.

Will you forget me?
Have you forgotten?
Catch me! I’m falling
Right to the bottom-
Less pit, and it’s black
This slough of despond.
Come pull me out
Put my feet on the ground.

Yes – life goes on
Yes – I’m OK
I’m sure that I’ll live through
The rest of today.
But thoughts of you, well …
They intervene
My poor battered soul
It hearkens and leans
Like Donne’s famous compass
Here waiting for you.
You, the foot that doth roam
And me
To grow erect as you come home.

Polly Robinson © 2011


Leave a reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s