a gentleness – yet wild at times
when you come passing near
the days shine bright, the sun
is warm, your voice is soft an’ dear
a boyish charm, a whistling call
of pipe an’ heart-made drum,
the art of music skips my feet
yours, whistling – best of all
with your hands persuasive strong
come dance us to the sea – oh, my
dear an’ only love please smile
me a little naughty!
Music always skips my feet as does your beautiful poetry, my friend.
j.
Like many of your friends, am delighted to see you here, sir. Shall we dance?! 🙂
I liked the quirky feel of your poem – rustic and folksy, original, too.
You can read me like a book, hj furl! Will willingly take your words and wear them as a medal or few! How d’you do!
I love the ancient feel to this. A poem with a naughty overtone but almost theatrical too. I like it and the way the words flow like a song.
Tim, you’ve left me words that make me smile, there’s nothing better than that, sir; ‘ancient’ I really like – as yet not into the modern but will get there, one day.
Nice quiet old worldly charm about this one.💋
I so like being in this site! What a friendly, ‘charming’ review, Peter! – many thanks.
‘Ere thrice the sun done salutation to the dawn’ and more. This made my bookshelf and me smile. I’m Welsh first, British second, but we must never forget the language of yore. The quill is mighty.
You might well be related to Dylan, your words echo and most certainly never forget the ‘language of yore’. Silence listens to the past and – usually nods in agreement. Thank for visiting.
To be candid, Dylan turned his back on his Welshness and so we look to his name sake RS Thomas as our nation laureate. I am so proud to say I am one of the few Welsh writers scribbling in English. My Dad was English. Sorry to bore you.
A very beautiful and tender poem, dear Emma! It makes me feel like a full moon night spent in raw wild nature…
What a wonderfully worded review, thank you and thank you again. Be happy, my friend.
Beautifully penned, Emma. Love the flow and your delivery. Excellent write my friend. Appreciate you.
Damian
My word, this takes one back a bit .. those days of yore were summat else .. weren’t they .. so very nicely poemed. Neville