If These Walls Could Talk

There is still the echo of cannon-fire

tucked inside the alcoves

the shadow of men with broadswords

across the window ledges,

whispers of skirts on floorboard,

creaking corsets and stubborn doors,

muted conversations,

murmured lovers’ words,

and the echo of a family,

some gone, some misplaced, some safe.

We remember the thrum of armies,

where they marched on stone, on grass, on soil.

Where we lay, were built, and fell,

where you now walk on summer days

when the sun is high and bright,

and there was nothing else much to do

but visit local sights.

We will stand here still,

until the years pass on too far,

and then there will be no stories for us to tell

and no walls to talk anymore.


Don’t entirely sure what I think of this piece as my brain’s a little fried from working on Shadow Dawn for the last four hours. Day one of NaNoWriMo done, twenty-nine left to go.

Anyway, I was going to give poetics a miss tonight but the prompt ‘if these walls could talk’ just took me straight to Morton Corbet Castle in Shropshire and I had to write something.



  1. I’m so glad you joined in, Carol. You brought me back in time with the “echo of cannon fire” and “creaking corsets”. The thought of those walls crumbling until they can speak no more is very sad.


  2. I love the way the poem begins, Carol – I always feel those traces of history in ruins and old buildings, that’s the thrill of visiting them, so your ‘echo of cannon-fire’ drew me in. I love the shadows , whispers and creaks, and the past voices, still contained within the walls. You’ve even captured the scarier ‘thrum of armies’. An evocative poem that I really enjoyed.


  3. You’ve done this brilliantly. It’s as if the castle walls are actually telling you about its story 🙂


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