Barry Conway


The Long Grass - Poem by Barry Conway

THE LONG GRASS

THE ROAR OF THE WEIR,
AS HE DREW NEAR,
HEIGHTENED EXPECTATION.
THE FLOW,
IMPENETRABLE TO THE EYE,
GUSHED BY,
BELIED,
IN IT'S LIFE GIVING FORCE,
WHERE OF COURSE,
I WAITED,
IN HEIGHTENED ANTICIPATION,
PEERING THROUGH THE FENCE,
WEIGHTED BY THE GATE,
CLAPPED BY THE TREES,
NURTURED BY THE WATERS,
A DAUGHTER,
OF THE DAY.

MODERN,
MIXED WITH OLD,
WHERE WATER BIRDS, HEARD,
THE CALL OF THE OLDE,
TOLD,
AND PASSED DOWN,
WITH WINGS UPON THE GROUND,
THE VOICE OF PRUDENCE,
BUT IN VAIN,
FOR THE LONG GRASS,
WAITED WITH ME,

HE ARRIVED,
HE TOOK MY HAND,
MY HEART,
MY FIRST LOVE,
UPON THAT DAY.
WITH WINGS UPON THE GROUND.

Topic(s) of this poem: first love, nature


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Poem Edited: Wednesday, June 14, 2017


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