Welbeck
by Mulletproof Poet
beneath the weight of a century
and its spare change seasons
beneath the jet fighter trails
a future and reason
wrapped in ambiguity
and garments of wire
the house that never rests
welcomes or smiles
where tunnels spread as arteries
pulsing under woodland skin.
where bleeding gaslight scabs old wounds
and long forgotten things
where ghosts of obese horses
stare always at themselves
where no dancers waltz to memories
and distant church bells
where time takes a holiday
and masterpieces hide
to consider their tin box options
of oil based suicides
a recollection of a workforce
digs deep and shields its eyes
and chambermaids skate eternally,
carving stories in the ice
where authorities of silence
command the passages of age
cursing lonely circumstance
and a name scrawled on a page
where a duke found no peace,
company or home
but a necessary labyrinth,
a forever in which to roam
Mulletproofpoet’s website
Welbeck Estate website
sketches of Ben, and Duke above...
