Poetry by Jeff Green

2338–Its_on_such_days_as_these,.html

It’s on such days as these,

by cricketjeff on October 1, 2009.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

It’s on such days as these,
With golden sun and cunning breeze, and leaves still playing in their trees
White vapour trails connecting clouds and pigeons chasing bread in crowds
When swallows mass for final meals and crows hunt beetles crushed by wheels
The town ignites in autumn light the walk to work seems almost right
It’s on such days as these.

It’s when I dream of you
And everything I touch seems new, the sky a field of Wedgwood blue
The golden windows on a plane throw sunlight back like shattered rain
The blackberries are fresh and sweet each an unexpected treat
Small butterflies and bugs emerge from long neglected roadside verge
It’s when I dream of you

It’s on such days as these
The meadow puts me at my ease with grass that waves like rural seas
Then office life competes to find the central focus of my mind
But I’m not done with life inside although at times it has to hide
I drift away and set it free my secret world of poetry
It’s on such days as these

It’s when I dream of you
That I can bid a brief adieu to all the urgent ballyhoo
I wish the mundane life goodbye and watch the world beneath the sky
My fingers tap at day to day but truth to tell I’m far away
Exploring all it really means to live amongst the kings and queens
It’s when I dream of you

It’s on such days as these
That I join with the absentees redeeming mental guarantees
And thinking thoughts I can’t explain I catch the early evening train
Then walk home under sunset skies and peach gold clouds that fill my eyes
Attached by some unbroken glue to images that speak of you
It’s on such days as these