Wonderstruck Poem by Mathew Lewis

A pivot poised in total perfection,
A red leather heal on a wooden park bench,
The glimmer of that which drips of high fashion
Made odd by where it now rests.
A blanket of deep dappled sunshine,
A pattern cast across ever ageing paint,
The play of light over carved out messages
Is but a story to set this against.
A careful flex and turn of an ankle,
A spark that produces yet more of the same,
The deliberate fashion of this heal-toe curve
Only gives away the game.
A flourish of three-sixty degree turns,
An audible creak from the ageing bench seat,
The uncanny idea that old has met new,
A sense of being complete.
An expertly executed dismount,
A departure so exceedingly well made
Brings the return of silent eternity
Back to that ancient place.
A lone cricket breaks the fragile silence,
A cautious moon lights the trees in silhouette,
The now begins to slip away from the then,
With nothing taken, and nothing left.