Leslie Philibert

(6th March 1954 / London, England)

Alice - The Prelude


Legs tucked under,
a book across innocent thighs
knees covered with a calico print.

She reads aloud with perfect slowness,
celebrating each article and preposition,
every phrase climbing as a song.

With a pink-piggy finger
and a translucent fingernail
she traces each letter.

Finishing each word with a flourish
she rudely wags a finger,
giving the naughty book a good telling off.

Yet there are the first signs,
the sky thick with blue, bees agitated,
the earth starting to sink,

There are strangers waiting
to steal her attention
as her long dark locks move windless.

Submitted: Wednesday, July 11, 2012

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  • Thomas A Robinson (7/11/2012 4:28:00 PM)

    The poem drags me in deeper and deeper, image by image, Oh, if only there could be
    Three more stanzas.Maybe? (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

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