.
Samode Palace Hotel
An erstwhile palace, and all wished to claim
a former sultan’s, not a servants’, room.
So we drew keys, for all had paid the same
and won two turrets and a vast bedroom.
But, best, adjacent to that room there was
a tiny courtyard open to the sky
possessed by us alone to sit in as
we watched the stars and galaxies wheel by.
An unglazed window opened to a hill.
Strange cries came from its slopes as darkness fell
and heat diminished to a pleasant chill
and the day’s cares dissolved and all was well.
As myriads of constellations spun,
We contemplated night in Rajasthan.
.
.
Isabel Miles is a scientist turned writer living in the North York Moors. Her poems and short stories have been published in Shooter, Northwards Now, Anomaly, Acumen and Dreich, among others. She recently published her first novel, Chosen, on Kindle.
Dear Isabel Miles,
Dear Isabel Miles —
You are completely un-politically correct, and I love it. To me, your work is reminiscent of such as Saki and others of that period.
As I read this poem, I thought of all we have lost and thrown away, and was saddened.
Thank you for what you are doing.
I enjoyed this sonnet a lot, Isabel. Its chronological simplicity speaks volumes of how long you must have toiled over it.
As a reader, I felt I was there, in Rajasthan, too, watching the galaxies swing on by.
Thanks for the read.
This is just beautiful, Isabel! Your visual imagery, and your musicality, are both exquisite!
I liked the vignette, but I still wonder what your overall point is. Some of your rhymes are a bit sketchy, but perhaps you prefer them that way.