She was the poem

She was the poem

This poem was long awaiting to be written. Its based on someone I saw during my morning walks, one and a half years’ ago. I used to see her everyday for a year. She reminded me of a poem I’d long read and loved.

Have any of you been reminded of a poem when you saw someone?

P.C. From the Net

I saw her on my morning walk

Strolling ahead of me

in a lime green dress

Spaghetti straps, straight- cut

Her skin – cream veneer

If not for the summer’s breeze that blew-

brushing past me hurriedly

Frisking a tendril that meandered

down the curve of her neck

and idly lay on her back,

I’d think it was Spring

Honey brown was it or auburn-

the blazing sun played games

on her tresses and my still, drowsy eyes

Unfazed she rambled
Oblivious of joggers passing by

And penetrating eyes

Of the squatters

On the cemented sidewalk
If not for the sounds of running feet

The whizzing of cars on the street

and the swooshing of the city cleaner’s broom

Against the stone pavement

I’d think we were in the meadows

As she glided leisurely, nudging the pram

Was it hers or another’s?

Her delicate frame played games

on her persona and my still sleepy head

‘She walks in beauty,’ mused I

Lord Byron coming to my mind

Have attached the poem by Lord Byron below for those who haven’t read it before and for those who have and love it for it’s one of those poems that lives on forever.

she walks in beauty.jpg

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12 responses to “She was the poem”

    • Thank you so much Robbie. Your comment means I did justice to what I felt. Robbie do read the story I posted. It’s really my first attempt at story writing. Would love to know what you think.

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