an excess of sapphires,
setting no turquoise aside.
the light at dusk
over the fields.
the way you feel
in the picture
with the aqua background,
its peach blossom spray.
bouquets of you on quiet parade
scented or unscented
forget me nots,
hydrangea snows;
the sea green crayon's repose.
the taffeta with the pearlescent sheen
you would have worn
in another century
with slippers to match;
a trace of glitter in the air
where children dream
picking one colour out of one thousand
or blueberries and cream;
sewing a seam made of skies
in Spring, in Spring, in Spring...
mary angela douglas 7 march 2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I'm capture by your poem. It's beautiful