The ghost of a nimble boy ...

This afternoon, my dad recited verses from The Rubaiyat - 

Warm sunlight filled the lounge of memory - 

He recited the jewel like quatrains without faltering, word perfect - 

For a moment, the ghost of a nimble boy sat in the armchair - 

I saw his unclouded blue eyes -

I saw him open the small book which is now in the glass fronted book case - 

He'd carry it in his pocket across grey oceans - 

He'd read from it whilst searchlights hid the stars - 

15.30

Sunday 21 May 2017

Staunton Road

Havant