Prospect Villa

Prospect Villa

The house has rarely been as cold as this
since we were here together long ago
the coal fire standing quiet and unlit
as dormant as the rose of Jericho

Mist from dad's paintings leaks into the air
the signs of you recorded everywhere
the scratches on the table, four plain chairs
became the altar of your daily prayers

A love shared out through all the happy years
hides in these walls, I feel it through my skin;
it seeps into my bones and swells the tears
so loaded with the grief I hold within.

But like the rose this place will flower anew
and love will flow and build another home
and other children will remember too
this house where I, in silence, stand alone.

Tim Fellows 2019