I think what I would
like to see
Is poetry recited under
trees
And in the dark gloom
of a shady crypt
A reworking of a Gothic
script
Upon the lawns where
prams roll
A tall tale or two
while we stroll
And by the cannons a
dramatic pause
To spark a volley of
applause
I'd let my mind wander
free
In a citadel full of
poesy
Mind games
In hidden lanes
To trip you up
And spells on knolls
Wishing ink wells
And wooden walls
A train of thought
To bridge the gap
Between fantasy
And prose's precise map
Engineered to fit the
bill
While perched on a
favourite windowsill
A bird's eye view to
another town
And all along and down
These streets
I'd let my mind wander
free
In a citadel full of
poesy
But most of all, what
I'd like to see
Is poetry recited under
trees
