michael oliver

Rookie - 95 Points (13-4-1948 / swansea)

What Happened On Retreat


Over the churchyard a pastel of grass
Inquires from my past about the future

Hear - the wind has a different voice
As leaves chatter gentle mention its progress

Clarity of brown trunks, red fruit incidentals
The receding grass, flat spreading, wordless recedes

Autumn touches, green ochre's, through the whisper
White walls; silence stark, halt my thinking

The green gentle present, the unstated here
There is no ignoring this quiet asking

There was a depth to the air
No - only a now unchanged passing through

From afar a church bell through rain
Over fields, trees unseen, a single rock

The wood painted unfinished as when started
Here time so conjoined does not go

My feeling is here; becomes my knowledge
Stretches away, out there, by remembrance bounded

All that now will purchase - now proved
Second hand - from a bit of grass

Submitted: Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, September 18, 2013
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  • Rookie Judy Meibach (10/3/2013 12:56:00 PM)

    I like this poem - I like how you used the grass - and then you use the colors in terms of description - the fact that you use organized couplets is great - I am particularly intrigued by the words in the first stanza (Report) Reply

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