Longleat – a poem

Longleat

If walls could talk
The stories they would tell
Of rising, falling,
Burning and soaring

The walls hold scars
Of battles fought and tempers lost
Pursuing perfection
Whatever the cost

What hands brought them to life?
Who pulled the string that aligned the stone?
Who laid the mortar that fused
The vision and final building?

Does the tyrant know?
Does he see?
Does he count the present joy
An adequate legacy?

Or does he reach his hand
Up through the grave
Adjusting, tweaking, starting anew
As he did in life, so too in death

Perfect measured symmetry
Hides a tale of strife
Was it worth it, my friend?
Was the legacy worth the fight?

Your walls glimmer and shine,
Chasing sunlight into shadows.
I run my hands along the stone
To feel your touch.

You look forward. I look back.
Hoping to meet you in the story.

 

By Katherine J. Scott