6.
The Old Roman Wall
In Augsburg there is a Great Roman wall
Of stone, Not dark, and open to the sky of blue; Homeless looking, old ruins, under the
Somber sun: Soundless and secretalone.
Profound its nature is; I cannot
Answer why: No doors, no locks, just mortar and rock
Face the sky; perhaps, It is that its cryptic past is seemingly
Murmuring unceasingly!
#1181 2/7/2006 7.
Heidelberg Castle (Fortress on the Hill)(1975)
Be meek, I said, when I first marveled
At her face (a strong fortress, with a restful
courtyard): Be meek, who knowest how thy story
goes; From highye, stands, above
The river: Spirit filled with indifference. Mangled-stones with footprints of
Lost battles Reluctant-days, and woe!
Notes by the author: I visited Heidelberg Castle one afternoon, in 1975, this 13th century castle, with 16th century buildings here and there. I stayed for what was called th e Illumination, where they light up the castle, and have fireworks, a most inspiring event. In its ancient, and most gracious looking courtyard I relaxed and took the day in; my son Cody at that time was with me (about three-plus years old), he was running here and there; thank God I was young; it has a slope, or walkway, or rampart, to its top, a long walk its seems, as I look back, perhaps because I had to carry Cody some of the way.
#1182 2/7/2006
8.
The Baroque Staircase
Wuerzburg, once bombed to Hell(WWII),
No voice has said, Farewell! And now she stands, the finest of them all: Along the banks of the Main River,
Bavarias southern heritage city.
I walked her Baroque, staircase,
Stepped into Napoleons room: Looked about the vast Garden Chamber, Built in 1744.
Note: From 1974-1976 the author traveled a lot in West Germany, France, Switzerland, Belgium and Luxemburg; especially witnessing its many castles and rivers. #1183 2/7/06. Introductory Poem
German Ramparts
There lies a country with no time or space, I roamed her cities and streets; castles, riverbanks, in my youth; forests and creeks, bars and fests, paths that I shall never remember, nor trace again.
Our love for each other is desolate, yet it is ours, fall leaves, summer heat, the winter winds, all ours to keep, remember or notso many memories stirredthe old spirit seems to have arms, with voices and memories of long ago, of long age. Thus, I stand irresolute, a ting; lonely: you could sayfor one I shall never know.
#1185 2/7/06
9.
Red Sandstone
Aschaffenburg down, The River Main, Red-sandstone, Simply majestic!
Note: The author lived eight-miles from this beautiful castle, 13th century, made of Red Sandstone, of which on the weekends hed take his son Cody to the castle, park the car, and if it wasnt open, theyd simply play, and look at its beauty. And when hed drive off, h e could still see its pinkish color in his mirrors.
#1184 2/7/06
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com
Author:: Dennis Siluk
Keywords:: Poetry
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