Alice Baudoin

Down To Sycamore Road

We first shared enchanting love words
Down to Sycamore Road
Sky was purple, emerald birds
Spread on us shine, eyes glowed

We first touched our stars and our hands
Down the Sycamore Road
Our eyes were gold like lavish lands
World - a place of abode

Love is something to raise each day
Down on Sycamore Road
Towards sun or roaming astray
Through death or as life flowed

You can't only bloom for an hour
Down to Sycamore Road
An embellishment, a flower
Which have never been showed

And even this hour of rare bliss
Lost on Sycamore Road
You've refused me at all, I miss
The sun to softly explode

Your steps will be leaving away
From the Sycamore Road
While mine are still destined to stay
In the light we've bestowed

Only old memories live now
On the Sycamore Road
In a sycamore-fig, somehow
With glee of dawn endowed

My eyes are dewy and swamp gray
Now on Sycamore Road
I don't see the night, nor the day
Nor the lyre, nor the ode

Topic(s) of this poem: love

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, July 16, 2014

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

There is this beautiful and winding road, called Sycamore Lane, not far from our house. With lots of huge, rich trees and charming, cozy, little houses hidden behind them. It's only yesterday that I found out, by chance, that sycamore is the name of a tree. I looked at some pictures and I thought this tree is so wonderful, magical and majestic, inspiring and rich enough to shelter in its shadow the love.

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