On Being Read a Poem

I heard a poem read aloud but couldn't take it in.

My attention was high-jacked by a word,

an unusual image,

that whisked me away with the fairies

to ruminate and cogitate

and meanwhile

the poem continued to be read aloud

but I,

I was no longer in attendance,

instead creating pies in the sky

and clouds and crowds of daffodils

that cheered the greyness of that day.

Daffodils floated in my head

but the poet continued to speak,

when I returned to the room,

of hats (under his) and keeping quiet

(the difficulty of)

and I turned my ears away from his reality

and returned to the yellow gold of jonquils,

daffy-down-dillies,

narcissi,

trumpet flowers—

Mother Nature's silliest shapes

created to lighten our hearts.

 

 

Copyright © 2023 Ann Tudor
Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com

ListenandLive: http://www.listenandlive.com/advanced_search_result.php?keywords=Ann+Tudor&search_in_description=1&osCsid=0710648c0eea428843aca84d0c04837d&x=0&y=04837d&x=0&y=0

Audible.Ca: go to https://www.audible.ca and search for Ann Tudor

Audible.Com: go to https://www.audible.com and search for Ann Tudor