Peter Rees Poet Rhyme

Fog In the City

The vibrant colours of a Venice day
Are muted now, and drained to sombre grey,
As huddled shades of countless long past years,
Sharing their tears and ever constant fears,
Silent, intangible, diffused, now roam,
In tones of dank, primeval monochrome.

Sweet Melancholy breathes her mawkish air
As stony faces add their baleful stare,
Sightless, yet knowing well within their core
The days of pageant, and the grief, of yore.
These shifting nearly-souls of latter day
In sorrow, and against their will, they stay.

As pigeons bleakly view the scene below,
The church bells, softly stifled, peal, as though
In cotton wool. Canal sounds harmonise,
And gently rhythmic solace therein lies,
Easing the pain of those the city shuns,
Her unseen, phantom, long-forgotten sons.

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Patricia Cresswell August 23, 2017 at 9:55 AM Very atmospheric, chill making yet sorrowful. I had always pictured Venice as a happy place. But yes I can see the underlying mists of gloom. Patricia Cresswell August 23, 2017 at 6:36 PM By the way I love your imagination! Patricia Cresswell August 23, 2017 at 6:35 PM Well it is believable in that every place has its nasty little secrets. The town fathers usually try to keep them hidden. Peter Rees August 23, 2017 at 12:59 PM A pure figment of my overactive imagination. Yes, of course Venice is a happy place.