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Cosmopolitan Park (Just U & eye)

There was a pretty little Daisy in the park.
There were dogs too, they use to come and go
and the naughty ones would bark.
Men would sit and read their papers
you could see ladies doing their knitting,
some of them would sow.
The passing parade, everyone coming, some stopping,
briefly chat, remark on a certain thing then go.
There was a bubbler, many paused and drank,
or with those things, sort of gulp and sipped.
I remember one elderly chappie, he had no
idea how to work the thing and when
he's finally got it to squirt all down
his front the water dripped.
I know all this because
I too was a member of this fraternity,
the observer, writing and watching, waiting
for an event that hadn't begun.

Eventually you build up a group, a loosely held bunch
that may not have much in common, but have a bond.
One such fellowship had writing poetry in common
so we would advance to each other with poems we'd written,
a sort of casual fun.
That's where Daisy came into the picture,
she would write the most beautiful poems,
they sort of danced off the paper and into your heart.
Still as things never remain the same, we move on,
or others appeal to a certain breakaway group and so it
happened with Daisy and they now occupy another bench,
I was sorry to see them depart.
Sat alone for a time,
longer than I'd like to remember and new ones came,
joined, left, we were never short of a member.
Yet I can't get over losing Daisy,
I've tried and there was something we had,
I reminisce sometimes; of what it was that she gave me,
her appeal or,
but I can't put a finger on it,
just her, which is all I remember.

Bumped into Daisy the other day,
hardly knew her, it was so sad.
Got the feeling she wasn't,
quite the opposite, I think she was glad.
Glad she had joined the others; she showed me a poem,
I had the feeling it was a gesture of embarrassment,
read it quickly, she had lost her sweet-write,
couldn't tell her it was that bad.
So I lied, to save face,
It occurred to me just what it was we did have
when the group sat there,
many matters crossed the floor.
It was more than her smile,
I adored her for who she could have been.
But it hasn't happened.
You see, I packed up my things the other day,
I too have left the scene.
I can't bear the thought of bumping into Daisy,
as it turns out I think it was more than adore,
yet I'm shy to say it out aloud,
you might have guessed, I can't write anymore.
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Submitted on August 04, 2013

2:24 min read

Hisham Addicoat Claim this poet

/(**)\ || / \ _||_ "Cyber Sketch".. patent bending. Copy'bright, applied six, of it that 4." more…

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