Patricia Cresswell Poet Free verse

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. October 31, 2017 at 11:12 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 October 31, 2017 at 11:23 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 October 30, 2017 at 3:26 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 October 30, 2017 at 10:03 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.