Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Something Else From Me

I always used to have trouble writing poetry. I think the problem before lay in not having anything to say. Now that I've figured that out, the poetry is easier.

This poem does mean something, but before you ask, I had better tell you that I'm keeping it under my hat for now. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it.

"Kamchatka"
by Suzannah Rowntree
(Copyright reserved)

I like to lie and think of all the things I've never seen--
Vienna woods, a flying horse, the time I saved the Queen.
I've paced through castle corridors, all clad in blue samite,
And on the far side of the Moon fished silv'ry streams by night.
Of all the places in the world, of all the lines I know by heart,
Oh, I remember most “Kamchatka,” it's by far my favourite part.

If I travelled to the New Year's Ball, pre-Revolution France,
And some tall lad of Gascony selected me to dance,
I'd take his hand and waltz with him and sup on pink champagne,
And till my shoes were quite worn through would dance and dance again.
But then a chilly winter's breeze would steal through opened doors,
And “Kamchatka” it would whisper and would give my dancing pause.

Or I might sail on distant seas, beneath a blazing sun,
And find a sword my only friend and pirates not much fun.
I might with dead men try my wits, I might their treasure seek,
But ships are somewhat small and cramped, and much inclined to reek.
The laces, silks, and pearls I might not amiably decline,
But all of us must know our place: “Kamchatka” must be mine.

It's funny that I never dreamed of pinstriped elegance,
A pointed shoe, a snappy coat, a witty relevance.
I never thought of doing things with pens instead of swords,
I never thought of OBEs and winning grand awards.
I must confess this kind of thing has never come my way,
But if it should, “Kamchatka” calls, and draws me far away.

1 comment:

Meggie said...

Great job, thats very lovely!

Blessings,
Meggie

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