By David Ayres
Lay me down where the clouds rise high
Up among the tall white towers
There where serene goddesses lie
And pass untroubled hours.
Raise my head to face the dazzling castles,
Building into the nearly black blue,
Where, in mockery of wasting muscles,
I can soar as if made new.
Keep my eyes open as I float from peak to peak.
Do not let the curtain fall upon my flight
Nor let me try to speak
But hold the coming of the night
And let me skim upon the wind
And show you how I’m gilded
by the late sunlight.
© David Ayres
David Ayres, author, teacher, guitarist and pilot was born in 1946 in Birmingham and died on 4 January 2016 in Lichfield. He especially wrote this poem to be read at his funeral.
David Ayres is the author of Top of the Sixties, an atmospheric short story collection about growing up in a Midlands town during the 1960s. All his witty, thought-provoking ‘grumpy old man’ blogs are still available on this page.
