Poetry (2015-2017)

The Man In The Field.

Off in the distance, far into the fields.
He stared back at me, standing firmly.
Just a short glance with no humility.
His hand held a flower, it smelt aromatic.

His long chestnut hair blew in the wind violently.
Gracefully showing off his prominent circled face.
Wearing a hat that hovered over his delicate eyes.
Covered in black from head to toe, he was no mystery.

He wore a sly smile that was innocently charming.
His glasses shone with the sunset that dimmed us both.
His presence was warm and gentle but resiliently strong.
He nodded towards his direction, moving me closer.

I rushed over without panic, excited to join him.
Halting to stop as I soon stood in front of his soul.
He smiled sweetly before embracing into a cuddle.
Resting my head on the hollow of his shoulder with ease.
We whispered a few words, I wanted to stay, I said please.

But he pulled away with satisfaction of his deed.
He handed me the flower which smelled of witch hazel.
I sniffed it slowly but surely whilst it engulfed my nostrils.
Before looking up once more to thank the man in black.

I scanned the area carefully, the man had disappeared.
Realisation struck me deeply as I cried forever softly.
It dawned on me quickly that he was snatched away.
Because the man in the field was a victim of foul play.
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Sometimes I'll see a photo of someone and suddenly I'll become poetically inspired by that photo. And who said photos weren't physical forms of poetry ? ;D Am I blessed or gifted, I'd say neither. Anyway so I wrote this poem/story which has some sentimental imagery and what not.

It's always a perk to write for John Lennon. Hope you like it, because I'm not sure. Feedback is constantly needed, people.

Sincerely Yours,
Liliana.