Early rise, exemplifies
With baited breath, and focus
I took note, of when she spoke
Her promised hocus pocus
Joined best, to quest, I must confess
On tailcoat, blows expedition,
The winds of change, she'll rearrange
So dreams come, to fruition
Spinning woven threads, overhead
I, tangled, a hostage held...
Conceived, convinced, dare I, to wince
And tempt, her sorceress spell
Follow her lead, the sprinkled seeds
Pied piper, lightly stepping
Navigation, crescendo elation,
Halcyon days, spent prepping
The minstrel boys, release their noise
To youth, reverse my aging
We'll prance and dance, find lost romance
In mystic music, staging
I surrender, for I remembered
She's the power to resurrect
A wounded sparrow, on broken branch, narrow
Least her magic, might I, forget
So many ideas and concepts in this rollicking piece. A magical ride indeed. Lets hope the day was one out of a satin top hat.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Magical indeed! Your lines brought visions of a morning's dew-soaked meadow...drenched in sunshine and awaiting exploration with expectant pleasure...Well penned!