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AIRY AZURE *
Just about where in Yorkshire,
hurtling through the unripe green landscape,
on a bounded steel trail,
two outlanders spy on one another,
a glimpse, a peek,
through the looking glass window,
outward beyond the coach,
whisking clouds, the heavens airy azure,
then a stolen glance,
he caress her with his green eyes,
slave to a fancy and her knock-out beauty.
At the station,
the last dreamy gaze,
she dissolves into the crush,
down a pint of bitter ale,
and now the ferry boat,
the inconstant, obscure North Sea,
and with the star rise,
my beloved Netherlands,
she....
she a polished, but not forgotten foot note,
a memory, in my journal,
a poem.
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Georgian Blue - [Poet for the day]
-The Poets' Edge Magazine, USA
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