The Latest SoireeA Poem by Rosalind Gale
A northern breeze ghosts over the lake,
The moon sits still over the trees - Spring has come early. Fallen blossom is scattered amid the cocktails and Shiny gold ribbons - He listens to the singing in a giddy haze. Across the flagstones, stilettos Click their way toward him. One ribbon is now resting soft, An evening dress undone. For this woman’s sake, he admires also her skin - Her fair complexion will pass as time drifts by. Near sunrise He leans alone on a fountain wall. The lake, as himself, now calm - Waits to be moved once more. © 2014 Rosalind GaleReviews
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10 Reviews Added on April 10, 2012 Last Updated on July 6, 2014 Author
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