The Cobwebbed Corners of Memory

My heart is like a sacred grove

A window to the past

Where all that is hidden

If sought

Might come to light

The sky hangs heavy

With the weight of rain

Just as I also labour

To hold the pain

That lives inside of me

In the cobwebbed corners

Of my memory

Every thought

Is my own to choose

Dark secrets played out

Flashing in and out of view

An ever shifting landscape

Of my moods

A night time garden

Formed of dreams

An unbroken listening

That fills the wonder

Of a moment

Soon swallowed

By the retreating

Midnight hours

The day dawns

Flowing softly in

On a curtain of mist

Flooding my view

With crimson drops

Of tears

© Ann Bagnall 2014.