I recently went to Stratford-upon-Avon


Sweet Pea

On my knees of delight holding
Holding tight to the sight of the English colours
The sweetest named peas march before me...
All named historically apparently.

For some lightly my hues are subtle but
Never confused.
I am ever a palette of paleness well thumbed
But never used...
Never stricken scarlet unlike a pallid pea.
Never marked a harlot.
Yet now the urge is winning me...
English.

May I throw myself away
To the hands waiting with the paints and perspectives?
Could he colour me prettily?
Enough to keep us sweet as a pea?
Or am I away enough to settle
For those undabbled colours?
Is he brave enough to take on
All my pretty thoughts?





Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 386 times
Written on 2009-07-22 at 03:02

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NicholasG
One would I be so lucky as to visit Stratified Avalon?
To be...is to be found guilty
Not to be confused with
being guilty.
Nick. :-)
2009-07-22


Brian Oarr
Not sure if he could "colour you prettily", but this poem certainly does you justice. A pleasurable read, Jenks.
2009-07-22