Leigh Stephenson Poet Quatrain

Maybe Next Time

The blue bells assume you came to save me; you're yesterday's love anyway,
A fragmented secluded infinity, no expectations, just sadness and melancholy.
Leave me now, I am exultant and proud, I retain my scrutiny,
Let us not pour fuel on to the burning wreckage no more.

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Kevin Shaw July 29, 2018 at 4:44 PM Some really nice comments here for a well written poem, Kevin xx Leigh Stephenson July 30, 2018 at 7:23 AM Thank you kevin :-) x

Caren Krutsinger July 27, 2018 at 7:05 PM I have not thought of bluebells for many seasons. I am glad you are exultant and proud. Well penned, Leigh. Leigh Stephenson July 29, 2018 at 1:55 PM Thank you for you kind words Caren. Bluebells are my favourite flower. Have a lovely day :-)

Elaine George July 20, 2018 at 12:50 AM Deep and profound, Leigh. Elaine Leigh Stephenson July 26, 2018 at 9:05 AM Thank you for your comment Elaine :-)

Harry Horsman July 19, 2018 at 4:05 PM Wonderful and powerful poetry. Leigh Stephenson July 19, 2018 at 5:04 PM Many thanks for your kind words Harry :-) X