WINDERMERE REMINISCED
By Peter Woodgate
Blues
and whites and pinks are seen
from
houses on the hillsides, green,
that
divide the lake and sky
a
scene that visits you and I
these
mornings as I open wide
the
shutters, now securely tied
to
greet the warm and gentle breeze
That
drifts across my face, I sneeze
then
look back at the bed and you
and
see you have awoken too.
Then,
softly, I caress your face
you
turn around and we embrace,
I
whisper that I love you, then,
we
hear the chiming of Big Ben.
Copyright Peter Woodgate
Charming traditional Poem, idyllic & romantic. Absolutely loved it.
ReplyDeleteReminds me of a story: A wife explains to her neighbour at her husbands funeral. "We used to make love in time with the sound of the church bells every Sunday morning. Last Sunday, was no exception. But, halfway through a fire engine went by..."
A beautiful poem, just as Len said, traditional and romantic.....lovely!
ReplyDeleteShelley.
Beautifully romantic.
ReplyDelete