Tony Grannell


Long Day's Evening Into Love - Poem by Tony Grannell

There's a lady on the boulevard
neath a purple parasol,
promenading in a hurried state of grace.
In beholden to the evening's charms
as she wears the arts of spring,
where one's bounden obligations states her pace.

There is an otherness about her,
notwithstanding her neglect
when in greeting those, she passes, on her way.
Her, ‘Good evenings', posed in blatant haste,
making rumours in her wake,
intermingling with the gossips of the day.

A whoosh of wind from a passing coach
rushed upon her, unawares;
billowing up her petticoats to the knees.
Though perturbed, she found herself again
as she caught the coachman's eye
with displeasure and a frowning, ‘If you please! '

Such intrusions, vex though hinder not
when a heart is resolute,
more than ever when one's calling is at hand.
When forbearance pays its compliments,
thus, rewarded with a wish,
a desire to see her sailor on dry land.

There's a fresh and present pleasantness
as she walks down to the sea
where the schooners are with rumors on the wave.
Should she shout, to hail her voyager,
to abandon one's demure
but is swayed by noble breeding, to behave.

To breathe the air of an ocean's breeze
in a swell of gratitude;
in joyfulness, for the tides are flowing home.
As are her pockets filled with letters
and all bound in ribbons red
as she lightly makes her way down cobblestone.

To the harbour's din and disarray,
mid the mayhem and the cheers;
her excitement flees the caution of her charge.
She, to rearing up her petticoats,
at the gallop through demure,
for, no more, whom she has waited for, at large.

The canvas furled, to the bollards bound
and the creaking timbers, quiet,
where a handsome man stands waiting on the pier.
Through the sleepy light at evening's end,
to behold with loving eyes,
her companion of the heart, her darling dear.

To my breast, my wandering sailor,
how I've waited for this day,
how I've longed to do those things we use to do.
How I've suffered through the loneliness,
how I've cried my nights to sleep;
how I've lived my every moment, missing you.



There's a lady on the boulevard
neath a purple parasol,
promenading with her sailor by her side.
In beholden to the evening's charms
as they wear the arts of spring
whilst in greeting those, in passing, in their stride.

Topic(s) of this poem: love

Form: Verse


Comments about Long Day's Evening Into Love by Tony Grannell

  • Practicing PoetessPracticing Poetess (6/23/2017 9:00:00 PM)

    Perfection.
    Your love poems are in a class by themself.
    (Report)Reply

    Tony Grannell(6/24/2017 2:02:00 AM)

    Hello Practicing Poetess, What a lovely response and so very much appreciated, truly. Do take care now, Tony.

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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 21, 2017



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