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bonnie-c-aspinwallPoems
If you followed me on a walk, In the sunshine of my mind, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a yellow fairy, Skipping between rows of sunflowers, Higher than high, Taller than tall? Would I be a gargoyle, Grinning hideously at the top of my Great, grey stone wall? If you followed me on a walk, Through the tempest of myself, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a giant black wolf, Prowling the dense forests of Scotland, Dimmer than dim, Darker than dark? Would I be the ghost of a lady, All dressed in white, in an empty room, Barer than bare, Starker than stark? If you followed me on a walk, Through the corridors in my head, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a great horse, Pounding with my silver hooves the earth of a road that never ends, Over and over, On and on? Would I be a painting, A landscape, My colour fading, Paint peeling, Rough and old, Gloomy and wan? If you followed me on a walk, Through my own sweet fragile world, I don't know what you'd see, Or to you who I'd be, But I know who I am, No one knows more than me. Would you like me to tell you? 13/09/2006
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Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
If You Followed Me
If you followed me on a walk, In the sunshine of my mind, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a yellow fairy, Skipping between rows of sunflowers, Higher than high, Taller than tall? Would I be a gargoyle, Grinning hideously at the top of my Great, grey stone wall? If you followed me on a walk, Through the tempest of myself, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a giant black wolf, Prowling the dense forests of Scotland, Dimmer than dim, Darker than dark? Would I be the ghost of a lady, All dressed in white, in an empty room, Barer than bare, Starker than stark? If you followed me on a walk, Through the corridors in my head, What would you see? Who would I be? Would I be a great horse, Pounding with my silver hooves the earth of a road that never ends, Over and over, On and on? Would I be a painting, A landscape, My colour fading, Paint peeling, Rough and old, Gloomy and wan? If you followed me on a walk, Through my own sweet fragile world, I don't know what you'd see, Or to you who I'd be, But I know who I am, No one knows more than me. Would you like me to tell you? 13/09/2006
Written 13/09/2006 © Bonnie C. Aspinwall 2013
bonnie-c-aspinwall
Written by
bonnie-c-aspinwall
Scottish
Jun 3, 2013
Jun 3, 2013 at 7:21 AM UTC
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