The second in my series of impressions set in an east German town.


by Schiller park

I thought we'd meet

for first

and last



who cares

as children play

'side the fish less pond

and clouds huddle past

awaiting thunder


a steamy gloom





I look twixt and twain

from first to last

as swallows sweep

past my head

in mocking rapture


a gentle breeze

disturbs the pond

mirroring the flowers above

in medieval glass


I see her now

my distant love

her long exotic robe

of plum and lace

her golden hair



I rise 

I wave 

she smiles


but only I can see

for dead she be

these years past

since Schiller wrote

for her not me

our song of rapturous love


Poetry by Peter Humphreys The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 503 times
Written on 2016-06-13 at 17:24

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I like the tone of this poem, its softness -- to be precise. Good work. :)

Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
What can I say but this is just has everything that I want to read, your writing moves me more than I can articulate and this is a superb poem

Elle x