Finished! So has she,
With ages left to go:
We sweep our desks, and chase each other
Out from ink and white
Into soft grey afternoon.
She asks me back for tea:
This stolen hour, our prize.
I look around, my mind
Still minutes, seconds quick:
Scruffy furniture,
And crib-sheets everywhere.
I turn my gaze on her:
The glasses, lips too full,
That centre-parted hair.
She smiles at me a smile
Down at heel and sweet,
Modestly disowning
A claim to be beautiful.
But now she smiles, she is,
This hour we steal from Time:
I see it, just this once,
The world come down to tea,
A girl, and no exam.
A picture, brief as light.
This is utter delight Richard, a beauifully woven poem and a pleasure to find it. An excellent composition. Love Ernestine XXX
Hail Poet! The beautiful words has more precious and copious thoughts of glimmering gold. The glistens of poem is very rare and I had envisaged in your Poem. A great wrought of Art.. God Bless you, Thanking you, N.Karthikeyan Osho
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
and so you sipped a space in time, a slice of cake, per chance to rhyme and should you ask me I'd have said I'll have a slice of home baked bread heh heh Ruthie good poem (did you pass the exam?)