Poem of the week: Reflection by Peter
Scupham
This summer - his view
*******
Looking through the window,
Sky and stars, blue sky, blue firmament,
far off
waves from the dashing Blue,
His Summer’s
special note .
Flowers clipped from buds,
flown by the wings of fast
moving, dashing against
all both
sad and suave,
now
touch him and go;
a refreshment from bath tub,
lavender
soap permeate,
while inward reflection
stays and journeys through
his mould and mind now cool.
His charmed soul, his mind
floating carefree and buoyant ,
now imprisoned in a cradle
perhaps imperfect he visions,
beyond his nerve and verve
where he is yet to be aware.
His summer now sails him
far away, to a
vanishing
from this imperfect coil
to a far distant wandering.
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