english summer
swanlike, the stretch of delicate neck
arching into tendrils of willow leaves
delicate in the springtime breeze
where pages of forgotten novels flutter
and eyes dance between passing posh folk
memorizing their accented mannerisms
in joyful scribbles of ink on paper
lingering in the desperate desire for creation
5 thoughts on "english summer"
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Such a quiet, easy elegance to this poem!
Love the realness in this piece described in beautiful details
The way that each image flows seamlessly into the next makes this such a graceful poem. ‘swanlike’ was the perfect word to start it with.
Wonderfully said.
Those first three lines are wondrous, sounds/looks/feels like a ballerina set loose by a steam. Well Done.