Dappled sunlight
through the leaves
dances underneath
the trees
And with its movement
so do I
slowly as I
wander by
Poems, poets, poetry, writing, poetry challenges
Its 10am, clear blue skies over head.
A young child is being led by its mother.
The bench’s rustic boards are transformed.
‘Ye best walk the plank mama’.
He’s a little boy, a son, a captain of a ship.
The mother stays close, but indulges in his fantasy.
Men fall overboard,
Others survive.
A swan in the distance captures his attention.
They’re off again.
Sunlight seeps into every groove.
The bench feels pride.