There On The Lawn, A-Drowse Poem by james watkin

There On The Lawn, A-Drowse



Having downed with his tools
A gardener's exertions
By which pause was crossed, untold
A border of seasons.

First slipped for awareness
Beneath whose panting's sigh
Bloom-nudged, for easy waltz of
Innocuous butterfly

When next, and decidedly
Not what gently beguiles
Entered anew for sound, wasp's
The woodbine defiles.

Friday, July 17, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: spring,summer
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james watkin

james watkin

Melbourne Australia
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