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Open Poetry #34
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OnThe Common
| Open Poetry #34 |
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OnThe Common |
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DavePage Member Elite
since 2003-12-21
Posts 2917 |
On the common is a re-write of some words I lost. These words originally started the thoughts. My love said to me, I am your love to be I've loved you more than I can say But give me your hand And walk to that tree Then I will give my own love to thee I walked with my love across the common. How can you love a person so much, and yet be able to live with her. Hugging her, kissing her, thrilling with her. What more could you want than love. Her excitement in seeing the funfair grew as we moved closer. The lights spinning around, the shouts of the rides. We watched a spinning light move upwards from the dodgems and come towards us like a laser show. That was the beginning. Sweet dreams are ideas that fitted on afterwards and need writing. Dave Grass rippled cold barren small hummocks of green brambled by trampling feet that maintain a piece on the common No sturdy shoes no ankles taking our ease in common with others scurrying for titbits brought forth to a delight on dinning in on the common Gentle walk in our summer wear light flowing highlighted by sun in a case that eased a designer’s delights of image and cost on the common Skirting brambles soft grass beckoned to be ignored or else the snore would dwarf other delights in ignorance of others on the common Snuffing at bees bumbling black and yellow accepting their invitation to a dance to infuriate Government of costs on the common Sun shone down raising vapour of steaming objects on an afternoon that turned and twisted seeking refreshment on the common Noon drew near scented the ground, driving insects in sound of buzzing floating animals to seek other parts on the common Through a gate an image awaits amongst trees smiling at long grass that never cuts but seeds within the trees on the common Crack of willow on bat red flies hard as leather to desires scoring just a run bumbling along to a player’s arm on the common Then a six is called and trees echo bald glancing off a bark with no sound to echo batman’s aim on the common With my lady fair of the golden hair amongst the grass that isn’t there we danced with the fare of pen on paper on the common A gentle wind blowing a hot night of thoughts of something scouring digging burrowing burying hot dry winds of those days of freedom on the common Spirits entranced in one world that no longer mattered electric we spoke smoke rising to see the cricket on the common Batted with resolution plied with constitution roused with absolution doused with an illusion we drew on the common Sweet dreams Whisper Long passions Walks Hills Sweeping passion images Calling Windswept trees To a torpid day Drifting Long grass To sublime pleasure Spinning wood inspiring Fragrant desire To a small pond milling in a lake Fishing For compliments From busy ducks Fishing To complement Their passion |
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