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.
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Comments about this poem (Alice - The Prelude by Leslie Philibert )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
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