The Willow Seat


Will Seat Picture


Trees part to the clearing, open lake

And yawning skies. The evening light abates

As purpled clouds have all the hour to take,

And the water waits;


Willow boughs caress the surface, tending

To its cares. On such a bough as this

I lean myself, stare down into the ending

Of my hour’s bliss,


Purse my lips as if I cared to kiss

The fading image: the moment hesitates,

Ripples out: and so we reminisce,

And the water waits.




One thought on “The Willow Seat

  1. I keep coming back to this one and remembering moments which the poetry brings back to me. The Canterbury Stour is not such a romantic river although it has its moments. I am entering two paintings of the Stour off the High Street in Canterbury in an exhibition next weekend. Gran

    Sent from my iPad


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