Penny White

Sweet Memory
A paradelle by Pithy de Wen (Penny White)

The knees creak with each step
The knees creak with each step
Tired leaves flow to a flooded fence
Tired leaves flow to a flooded fence
Each step creaks the fence
to flood a tired knee with flowing leaves

The loose stones wobble underfoot
The loose stones wobble underfoot
Faded blooms on a memorial garland whisper
Faded blooms on a memorial garland whisper
The memorial stone wobbles
A whisper on faded garland blooms underfoot

Twisted dusty grasses point to
Twisted dusty grasses point to
Two sweet wrappers drowning under submerged stone
Two sweet wrappers drowning under submerged stone
Submerged grasses, dusty twisted wrappers under two stones
To sweet drowning point

The broken fence creaked,
Two tired bent blooms wobble on the loose stone step
A twisted whisper of dusty garland drowning underfoot as
Each faded wrapper flowed
With sweet grass leaves to point to knees flooded
Against the submerged memorial stone

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Penny White

I didn’t know I loved strangers until I found myself awash with commuting crowds at Victoria Station and I on my suitcase. Or when I stepped on an aeroplane and flew amongst them to strange new lands.
I didn’t know I loved dew till today while watching it sparkle and move on grass blades being dried by the early sun. Can drops object to being evaporated?
I found I loved dew when my shoes squelch it up and my socks absorb it to wet my toes.
I didn’t know I loved dew until the blade on the rear window wiped it away to show the road I had travelled. Reversing out to go forward.
I didn’t know I loved geese, standing on chimneys, calling a warning, letting dog and I know we were seen. Their chest marks proudly pushed out and white flashes below wings as they land.
Mountains I loved on the Swartberg Pass
The ranges stretched on both hands
Away to touch the washed blue sky
I touched the tops
Glory to God rang out.