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The Comet

December 6, 2011

I was pushing my youngest granddaughter in her buggy this afternoon when I remembered an unpublished poem I wrote in April ’97.  The little love had fallen asleep, untroubled by the bumpiness of the ride as I pushed her down a narrow, unsurfaced lane, past the former United Reformed chapel with its overgrown graveyard in front.  What brought ‘The Comet’ to mind was that this lane was the “broken path” referred to in the last line.

The poem reads like some lovelorn plea but that was just me in romantic fiction mode!  My inspiration for the piece was the magnificent comet Hale-Bopp, which outshone all the stars in the sky except Sirius as it passed perihelion (a mere 85 million miles from the sun) on 1st April 1997.

‘The Comet’ is only a trifle, I suppose, but I’m pleased to have found a tatty carbon copy amongst my old files and will reproduce it now, before it fades away entirely, as in the end did Hale-Bopp…



Moonlight, daffodils, a weeping willow,

and in the northern sky a comet

with a ghostly tail.  The letter

was my last hope, and time

was running out for a reply.  Soon

the comet would be gone, my heart

with it.


Every night the mail tray,

checking and rechecking then stuffing

it all back, the comet a little lower,

a little brighter.  Daffodils and dreams,

your voice and your tender smile.


Another full moon,

a spray of white blossom,

my footsteps hollow on the broken path.

From → Poetry

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