Wednesday 7 August 2013

Trapped Butterfly

I thought I'd share a poem I wrote for a writing competition. The theme was Turn Back The Clock and the poem had to include this phrase. It's a little dark, but I was absolutely thrilled to win first place.



Trembling behind gauze, like a trapped butterfly
Listening to the scrunch of rubber on gravel.
He’s home.
A door slams as headlights fade.
How can a lover become a stranger,
As swiftly as a once polished plum
Becomes covered in a delicate froth of fungi?
Turn back the clock to those heady fruitful days
When love blossomed.
Shared dreams divided by time
And split like parched wood.
Unnourished.
His footfall, once a welcoming tread,
Now splinter my calm with regret
As he strides on the polished parquet.
Turn back the clock to a time when our words tumbled
like a rushing brook in a spring thaw.
Before the wordless air ambushed me,
Squeezing my breath at his glance.
A look which once glowed with love,
Now glowers.
Loving praise decayed into mute criticism.
A curl of his lip.
Turn back the clock to a time when the sun shone
On entwined fingers, and a passionate embrace.
His kiss, once lingering and heartfelt is but a memory,
Bleached pale by time’s incessant race.
“Goodnights” unspoken.
An extinguished bulb
Signals the end of his day.

Angela Barton

7 comments:

  1. I think that's really beautiful. Thank you.

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  2. Well done to get first - brilliant!

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  3. Thank you for reading and commenting Marcus and Avril. I'm so pleased you liked it. xx

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  4. It's a powerful poem, Ange - well done on winning the comp. Not surprised!

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  5. Thanks for sharing that, Angela. I'm beginning to appreciate open verse the more I read.

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  6. Thank you Rosemary. That's very kind of you to say so! xx

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  7. I don't write much poetry nowadays Keith, but occasionally the mood takes me! : )

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