- Non-Erotic Poetry
- A country lane
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Up the lane where the hedgerows grow
the flowers are small and white and yellow
Where the birds nest in thickets
the air is crisp and cool and mellow
My old bicycle whisks me by
Where sheep huddle in fields
and stone walls solidly lie
Down the lane where the hedgerows grow
Under the bridge and through the fjord
and towards mountains yonder
Over the hill, where the flowers are white and yellow
and towards adventure and wonder
The moment is now and happiness is irrelevant
At one with nature, removed from inner-self
Like the birds that nest in thickets
Free and frivolous and heartfelt
My lungs fill with air that is cool and crisp
My soul feels elated and serene
and I laugh out loud
as I sing along my country lane
- COMMENTS
duddle146over 17 years agoThis beautiful bucolic poem is a splash of color delight with its beautiful imagery. One word picture follows on the literary heels of another as we savor the richness of the delightful images. Reminiscent of Country Lanes everywhere.
Honey123over 18 years agoand quite honestly, you could possibly put this into a villenelle....I'd try it if I were you, might work even better~
~Honey
WickedEveabout 20 years agoThis is really quite nice and I think it has the potential to be even better. I was a little unsure about "hedgerows grow." It sounded strange, at first, but I think it worked better after saying it a few times.
