Untitled

I remember the green carpet that lay across the tiles
which I lay upon and listened to that never ceasing rain
A heavy mahogany bookcase filled with the mustiness
of tomes long leafed through and loved and I must
have wanted something so much so that I reached out
and found myself transported to riverbanks and
motorcars that peeped and sent mayhem out on
country roads where justice was unfairly meted out
with rescue, humour and dressing up with wicker
baskets holding washing, the river gushing onward.
I found a world, a place beyond the rain and cold,
rooms in unfamiliar houses where little girls were
sent to stay and speak a language foreign to their
tongues and lips and sip strange beverages and
have cold milk poured on cereals instead of warm
brioche and chocolate that dripped in bowls from
the copper kettle that always shone and gleamed.
Hours ticked and limbs were cold, frozen on the floor
where dreams became reality and escape was
paramount to each page turning with a churning
need to know, to find, enchant a mind still fertile
in its youth and quest to seek an oasis where
fancy cakes were served on platters and Papa was
a prince who went to fight the wars and then
returned with Gallic charm and bowed a swooping
bow to take the hand and lead her to the palace.
I remember scenes as reams of pages flashed
my eyes grew tired, watery with splashed tears
The heart, the soul of words just bled and fed
into a hungry heart, that longed and longed
for more and more, until at last, so bereft
I watched the dust motes swirl like stars reminding
me of spinning times where I would fall in
dizziness and crawl until I reached an even keel and
kneeling on a carpet that now became a universe.






Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 475 times
Written on 2008-01-21 at 15:43

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text