the city girl
oh how
she groans,
yearning
to unwind
her weary bones,
from dawn
to dusk
and dusk
to dawn,
she toiled
endlessly
stifling
her yawn.
with a silver compass
and a mystic rucksack,
she followed
a cobblestone road
meandering into
the misty mountains,
into narrow streets
surrounded
by taverns tranquil,
and cottages festooned
with flowering creepers,
dangling from their
ornate windowsills.
so far she fared from home
yet she did not look back,
she bloomed like
the wildflowers
she wore in her hair,
for the weather was warm,
the people were kind,
and limpid water
flowed in fountains
like a gentle summer storm
glistening in the sunlight,
on moss-covered stone bridges
passing through placid lakes,
along silent streams
hidden in nameless dells,
she wandered blissfully
under the cerulean sky,
as fleecy white clouds
sailed over her head;
casting cold shadows
on the temperate earth
and the road that lay ahead,
the city girl
she groaned
no longer,
for it was now
her body
that grew weary
and not her soul,
she had wandered
until
her heart
was full,
and now
it was time
to go home.
YOU ARE READING
The Adventures We Never Had
PoetryLadies, gentleman and others, I coyly present to you my collection of poignant poems that sometimes fail to be even that. These poems will be unlike any other poems you've had the pleasure of reading, but then again, that can be said of every other...
