For long ago a poet passed
~
While strolling by the lavender
her smile kept its place,
as lovely as a butterfly
afloat upon her face
She skipped as to a melody
that played about her mind,
in harmony with springtime days
she always seemed to find
With hair a flow of summer breeze,
spun gold and woven vine,
like Chardonnay from Maconnais,
a tasteful choice in wine
Beyond the field, neath skies of blue,
a' glisten in the sun,
a dainty pond, its cattail fern,
her tiny feet did run
She gazed upon the surface smooth,
reflecting clouds above
and tossed a stone, a splash was heard,
then ripples, she did love
For long ago a poet passed
and with his feathered pen,
had written her a verse of love,
then placed it in her hand
She read it with her eyes so wide,
his joy, she could not miss
Then laid her hand upon his cheek
and on his lips, a kiss
The poem he had written spoke
of ripples and a shore
and if the circles he could be,
he'd kiss her there once more
She turned to leave, her heart now full
of dreams he left behind,
with poetry and memories,
like ripples on her mind
~
This poem was inspired by me, not at the start but, it ended up referencing a poem that I wrote about 10 years ago titled: "And you were that shore" that I posted here on Soup for a contest and actually won.
This is that poem
And you were that shore
~
You were skipping stones
and as I watched
a slowly arching ripple
gently kissing the shore
I found myself wishing
I was that ripple
and you were that shore
~
Copyright ©
Chris Green
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