A Window Seat Poem by Pete Crowther

A Window Seat

Rating: 4.6


Five miles high
in our chartered jet
we fly in Fairyland,
all shining light, the
sky sea-bright, and
blue as lapis lazuli;
white as Dover’s cliffs, clouds
form a floor — a field of floating ice
below, so cold, so pure
like summer
in Antarctica
before mankind.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
John Tiong Chunghoo 23 April 2005

quite a shallow poem though.

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Linda Preston 23 April 2005

John, you are not being very kind today. Not all poems have to have a profound meaning - however, ice and cold are metaphors for many things.

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Poetry Hound 23 April 2005

Sure it's 'shallow.' Who said poems have to be deep? This one is short and sweet and has nice imagery that anyone who has had a window seat and a sense of aesthetics can identify with. Nice one.

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Robert Howard 26 November 2006

Beautiful writing. I'll think of your poem at 30,000 feet tomorrow.

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Emma Johnson 03 March 2006

Beautiful painting. Light and colours again, Peter. What expertise.

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Sherry Pedersen-Thrasher 15 August 2005

This is fabulous Peter and so easy to envision. I am a fan of your work. Great job once again. Sherry

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Raynette Eitel 06 August 2005

This is beautiful, Peter. When I fly, I'm very aware of how small a percentage of mankind through the times has ever seen the tops of the clouds. What a treat...flying AND your poem., Thanks. Raynette

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Michael Tonkin 23 April 2005

Peter, Where do poets get their ideas from, with just two lines to set the scene you embark on a poem that is short but delightful, that says it all. Wonderful. Michael

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Pete Crowther

Pete Crowther

Hull, East Yorkshire, England
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