Thursday 18 August 2016

Lise +10 poems down is on cunard file


Is there more to come 
your Da all scorn
does me down
trees and yellow flowers
wine and thorns
trips to country Mass
but its harvest time
you talk of New York                                                
my lucky find                                                                          
we danced with ease                              
through fields of corn                                           
in that post war scene                                    
your mother screached 
like a hurricane storm
but you were sweet                                    
as autumn dawned
we kissed at Cherbourg                            
seasons drawn                
on fine blue mornings  

No comments: