Chris Art & Travel


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Scotland (engl.)

Poesie



The night in the castle
- humorous rhyme


It happened on a Monday, on a beautiful October day,

driving slowly into the mist, a few sheep crossing our way.

The beautiful sun glittering on autumn coloured leaves,

passing Arbroath, heading North, we start to freeze.

The land so rough, and mystically covered in haze,

faded green hillocks, looking like wrapped in white lace.

As we finally reach the castle, the sky is cloudy and grey,

rough walls and a huge tower, no green creepers, just clay.

We knock on the big wooden door, as it opens it squeaks,

welcomed friendly, we discover the inside is full of antiques.

Outside last daylight is floating down horizon falls,

but no light is streaming in, behind these dark walls.

Before dinner, I open the door to enjoy the end of the day,

fire spitting dragons, just starting their evening play.

The old Lord is the only person at the long ugly table,

together with a pork roast, potatoes and Carling black label.

While we leave roaring thunder and lighting is covering the sky.

As a knights armour rattles bizarrely, I start to cry.

We run past an gallery of paintings with many weird fellows,

one of them gawking, his chest pierced by two arrows.

Shadows now giants as wind witches starting to scream,

spiritual power, "there a white ghost, not made out of cream".

The clans castle a castle of ghosts and mystic power,

as we run, we didn’t notice we ran up the tower.

Suddenly there is darkness all over and I hear someone scream.

I shout at my Husband, "please tell me, it is only a dream".

I stumble, the passageway getting smaller, somehow tighter.

There, there’s a shine, suddenly I feel a lot lighter.

I look out at the shining glowing glittering stars,

a romantic night in a castle, "oh what a farce".

As the sun is rising, I dry the last tear,

the daylight overwhelms the mystic darkness,

... and REALITY overwhelms everyone’s fear.




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