THE wooden eagle guards the black pavilion
Where a striking woman sits with faraway eyes
As if a tragic heroine in a movie.
Alexandra Park looks grand today
Under a blue spring sky with a cloud
Seemingly turning into a phantom.
I stroll past the pond in this sea of green
And the aviary enhances the scene.
The roses are not yet in bloom
But flowerbeds boast a rainbow of hues
And daffodils wave goodbye in the soft breeze.
I wander back to the war memorial.
The woman in the pavilion has now gone
Perhaps she’s a ghost paying the park a call
Or maybe... never existed at all.
Guy Fletcher
Pantmawr
Cardiff
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