Friday, 4 November 2016

The Cortege

The cortege was a motley group
They came from all about
To stand beside and hold the line
In full accord without a doubt

The cortege felt the need to be
And be among those close together
Joined in thoughtful recollection
Smiling times and talking blether

The cortege stood and raised a glass
Side by side in contemplation
To the strains of once shared melodies
One last salute in veneration

The cortege all and sundry knew
That every chapter has a name
A range of strange encounters
Each one a memory all the same

© C K Letts

No comments:

Post a Comment