New Poem by Todd Swift

Destination Spa In Ireland

Slyly misdirected in Monart -

lost artifice of sun & glass;

white-robed April spa-goers

style themselves for July now.

Sun's parish, milk without end.

Taking Easter morning they rise

make an occasion of tea & toast.

No explanation at noon is needed

for lying down among strangers.

Worship light blindly as it comes.

Stone bridge, pond birds, a cascade –

paid for with funds bought for a lie.

Bare-faced white facade turns true

when your blue sky breaks through.

April 2011

Comments

Poetry Pleases! said…

Dear Todd

Unusual sonnet! When is your next collection coming out?

Best wishes from Simon

Thu Apr 28, 08:50:00 pm 2011

Short Poems said…

Great write.
Wrapped up so nicely. Love it!
Take care
Marinela
Earth Poems

Fri Apr 29, 06:37:00 pm 2011

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