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Lullaby Series I

Lullaby 1 to the sailor of gentle soul soft feathers cross night skies and all brief moments of tenderness spent like pennies in an arcade he afloat, as a curl of wood rests on glass summer has flown the owl calls and she waits a woman alone with fireflies tilting her glass in fond salute to the green wandering sea

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Freddie Robinson Jr.

Date: 10/31/2017 11:12:00 AM

Very lovely poem, Patricia. I won't pretend to act like I know the deeper emotional meaning of this fine poem. This is a poem of beautiful imagery. Love and joy always.

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/31/2017 11:23:00 AM

It is not a true lullaby in the sense that it is not sung nor is it for a child. Thank you very much for reading and commenting. the story behind this poem will be revealed by the end.

John Fleming

Date: 10/30/2017 3:26:00 AM

This is a marvelous little piece of poetry, Patricia; I think I can read between the lines on this one. I am sat here, with my steaming mug of morning coffee, reading and re-reading it...it is as smooth as the glassed surface of a midnight Tarn. Simply quite lovely! :) john P.s 10 out of 10 -- Please go to the top of the class!

Patricia Cresswell
Date: 10/30/2017 10:03:00 AM

I would love to see a glassed Tarn. Georgian Bay has its quiet moments but never is completely still. As for the writing they are moments caught in words like a photograph. Thank you.