Splendour in the Grass

By 3rd August 2012December 9th, 2019No Comments

Sixty minutes lying here, I ask myself for what
A promise of a rendezvous with the Angel of my dreams
Scented whispered words of love, I can’t believe my lot
Ladies have prerogatives; at least that’s how it seems

Could be doing something else, like kicking football in the park
Fishing down at ‘Fiddlers Creek’ and hope to get a bite
Instead of which I’m laid out flat, my bottoms damp and sky is dark
If methinks she hopes I’ll wait, milady’s higher than a Kite

As I lay here on the ground, the clouds above break up and smile
At loves young dream with patience tried who perseveres, at least her due
Hidden ‘neath the long tall grass, makes it seem somehow worthwhile
I picture her with Raven hair and eyes such ‘Belle of Blue’

Undying love I will declare, with either spoken word or pen
Soft utterance of verbal kiss, an oath upon the parchment rent
Though you are innocence of Nine and I of only Ten
The years will pass in blissfulness, as you indeed are heaven sent

Nothing in this world it seems compares my love to you
Perhaps the Glory in the Flower, which brushes face with sweet perfume
Reflects the sun on petals splayed, to catch a splash of morning dew
Nature cast her spell on thee and now my heart doth ye consume

Richard Gildea

Author Richard Gildea

More posts by Richard Gildea

Leave a Reply