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Gedicht: A day at the fun-fair

It was the middle of september
an Indian summer I do remember
that we met at the fun-fair
a hundred balloons in the air
flickering paper-lanters silently swinging between the oaks
soft sounds of laughter coming from the marquee folks

very secretly at the backside of the old vicarage
we'ld make love inbetween the rosemary and the sage
the vicker was way to busy to taste the cider and wine
and you looked so gorgeous and smelled like wild thym
your dress wrinkled and your hair packed with straw
and I made a dog-ears in my book by Bernard Shaw

I read you two acts of Pygmalion aloud
we never even heared the rumour of the fairy ground crowd
I'll never ever forget that golden afternoon
we both became a lovestruck and flew to the moon
I'll keep and treasure these memories for ever and ever
and one thing's for sure, I will not forget you ever.

Dichter

RonDietvorst

Datum

24-01-2020

Bekeken

700

Beoordeling

Er is 0 keer gestemd

Tags

straw

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