The Promenade - Marc Chagall
Fair Warning
When we walk out in
the morning air,
My thoughts soar high
and away.
I watch the breeze
lift up your hair,
Send collar and coat
tails astray.
You always tether me
close to you,
A soft hand to stroke
and hold.
At first it
comforted, now I rue,
For your clutch seems
far too bold.
I am my own blithe
spirit, sir !
You may not hold me too
close !
For if my soul
becomes a blur,
Or reflection of
yours, at most,
I’ll soar away,
reclaim what’s mine
And leave this love that’s
heady wine.
A weekly pilgrimage to see what others post at Magpie Tales - this week is Mag #173 ... check it out.
ah, a little freedom from the tethering, this i understand...though we careful you might float away...smiles.
ReplyDeleteI like this take. Nobody wants to be tethered.
ReplyDelete... 'I am my own blithe spirit' ~~~ I LOVE that line! Great writing.
ReplyDeleteNow he has been warned! Everyone needs their own space.
ReplyDeleteI like your take! Nicely done.
ReplyDeleteI love the "I am my own blithe spirit!" wonderfully written! Have a lovely week!
ReplyDeleteI like the gallant, old-fashioned diction of your poem. It has a lovely Jane Austen feel to it. As others have said, the blithe spirit line is wonderful!
ReplyDeleteBut must feminism win out over romance..?
ReplyDeleteThis is my favorite one of the week so far.
ReplyDeleteIt's terrific in every way.
=)