Poetry Magazines - The best collection of poetry magazines online - Simon Armitage

A fierce storm was raging
As she galloped across the muddy field,
Raven black hair mingled with her horses mane
From a distance they seemed to be one creature.
Nostrils flaring and fire in his eyes
He lets out a loud whinny as
Lucy pulls him to a halt.

Weather worn, the old village church.
White paint peeling from each corner,
A lone stained-glass window -
An angels face peering across the tree-lined path.
Rusty now the ricketty gate
To which she tethers her steed.

The sound of riding boots echo
Upon the grey floor
Singing along with the thunder
As heels meet the dusty ground.
A loving smile plays around Lucys scarlet lips
As she places a kiss on the cold stone cheek
Of a statue carved from marble.

He died in the crusades they say
Could well have fought alongside King Richard;
Lucy knows her love is not for a ghost
But her sweetheart from a former life.
Feeling that the time is right she sits
Holding onto a vision - a dream
Soon to become reality.

A bolt of lightning hits the steeple
The past and future merge.
For months the villagers searched for Lucy
The woods were torn apart,
The fight was lost and one by one
Memories faded away.

Shakily the Vicar rises from his
Chair beside the fire,
Bones creaking as he mutters words that
Only God cares to hear.
Watching as the flames crackle and dance
Skipping round the hearth,
A picture forms of Lucy running into the
Arms of her lover;
A knight in chain mail holds on tight
This time he wont let go.