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Reflections.
 
The trouble with reflections
Is they always slip away,
Like leaves upon the water
Drifting into yesterday,
Like Monet’s water lilies
In a misty mirrored sky,
They blossom for a moment
But eventually die.

Reclining in a row boat
On a ghostly painted lake,
The flowers fade and vanish
In the gently swirling wake,
Just a silver sad reflection
Of a painting that I knew,
Like a half forgotten daydream
In my memories of you.

Propped against an oak tree
By a bubbling summer stream,
I seem to see you smiling
In the water’s hazy gleam,
And I try to touch your image
But you shyly move away,
Like the leaves upon the water
On your way to yesterday…

By 33whitby4654

© 2019 33whitby4654 (All rights reserved)

 

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