Stop all the clocks, cut of the telephone
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He is Dead'.
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted, now put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
YOU ARE READING
Medley
PoesíaIt's time to escape to the beautiful world of Poetry. I Love love love poetry and I don't think it's fully appreciated. Therefore I hope you will enjoy the works of some brilliant poets. Find heart in their words. I take absolutely no credit for th...
