This poem is a response to the RWP 107 prompt
I used to live here
It was my sanctuary and home
with its polished floors
and arched windows
Lost my job
Got behind with the mortgage
Couldn't understand the fine print
The bank wouldn't reduce my payment
Wouldn't let me stay
Would rather have my home vandalised
as a punishment for bad luck and no
family back up
There were a lot of tears
I had to get rid of Toby
my best friend
my dog of ten years
no room at the inn
dogs not allowed
my heart ripped apart
I sometimes see my mortgage broker
driving his BMW on his way
to Church on Sunday
His children wear little
gold crosses and carry
pearl plated bibles
I don't go anymore
another nice one Rall.....thanks again for sharing
ReplyDeleteWise words indeed. Makes you think, doesn't it? Thanks for calling on me - please call again.
ReplyDeleteWow, this actually brought tears to my eyes...
ReplyDeleteYour ending re-iterated why I stopped going to church...
Happy New Year Dear! (hope it is not so happy for "bankers" like those!)
Hello Rall and Happy New Year!
ReplyDeleteAlthough I didn't post anything for this prompt, I did draft a poem; mine was about the church itself. Here it is, just for you. Please tell me what you think. I can take it!
'There is still a kind of peace here
But the stillness is of neglect and
Dilapidation. Can we seek salvation
Still, amid these decaying stones?
We are bathed in a golden glow
Even though the kaleidoscope of leaded
Lights is gone; ageless patterns now
Burnished on the wall, ghosts of past glories
Come to lend their strength and
Invite us to enter once more
Allow the stillness to penetrate
our consciousness and see the space anew
witness its purpose, to revitalise
the jaded spirit.'
The bones are here but it needs tightening up
ReplyDeleteNice poem...nice feeling of the ruin
This one has a dual ring of Rall and Derrick
A frayed peace dappled
with neglect and dilapidation
remains Can we seek salvation
still amid these decaying stones
bathed in golden glow?
The kaleidoscope of leaded lights
long gone leave us
only with ageless patterns
burnished on the wall
Ghosts of past glories
offering strength
inviting us to enter
allowing stillness to penetrate
our consciousness and see the space anew
witness its purpose
to revitalise the crush jaded spirit
Hi Rall,
ReplyDeleteSo, you're a better poet than me - what's new?! You have made my words very effective; now why couldn't I do that? I really like the first line, which I never would have thought of. Thanks for helping to throw out the chaff and adding a few wheat stems of your own.
Silly Billy...you did a draft and I just added some frills.I bet most would prefer your original poem to my enhancement which makes you the better poet!
ReplyDeleteAn unfortunate story that has probably been told so many times in the recent past... excellent job bringing it to life and pairing it with this image.
ReplyDeleteWeaver I hope you call in this week as my next poem is partially based on a reference to
ReplyDeleteChurchill, daffodils and lipstick from one of your posts!