Spoken Word
Beneath billowy clouds
We lay together on a red tartan blanket
Sated from our picnic lunch
The warmth of sun on skin
and sweet summer wine on lips
Wildflowers he picked and carefully
threaded into my hair
Heady, hypnotic moments
As butterflies danced
and dragonflies hovered
All in the golden afternoon
I hear the three voices
Loud and clear
His, speaking of his love for me
Mine, repeating his words back
but inaudibly so he would not hear
Then that of my conscience
as always, keeping me silent
and so his words will remain
just echoes in my mind
and the events of this day
only memories
Copyright © 2022 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing
All Rights Reserved
Sanaa is hosting D'Verse Poets and has prompted us with choosing three
Lewis Carroll poems from the list she provided and weave them into a poem
of our own. I chose:
Echoes
The Three Voices
All in the Golden Afternoon
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