Your British eyes smile, blue
Across the sea
Poems scale mile-barriers
Effortlessly
I hear your whisper
From the turquoise south
Your poem melts like summer
In December's mouth
Even in the dark
Thought cannot lose its way
Poems drifts like a spark
To ports far, far away
Ah, Spanish matador
Red capes cannot shield
The thrust of a poem
In its passion revealed
Muse, like tumbleweed
North, south, east or west
Roams ‘cross the prairie-land
Climbs Mount Everest
She traverses oceans
Dallies from the moon
While dangling a poem
From the tip of her swoon
There is no rampart
A poem cannot climb
Such is the wonder
Of rhythm and rhyme
British eyes smile, blue
Like coming home
Thought shapes her beauty
Into a poem
© Janet Martin
And the ways of a poem
ReplyDeleteafter their roam
find a home
on Another Porch.
:)