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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
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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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