The Green Gate
The green gate creaks.
Her socks one up - one down.
It squeaks as she swings.
She sings as it squeaks.
Happy for once as she plays.
The path is wrapped in lavender.
It always smells so nice.
Don't touch, she will know.
The pebbles fear to move,
Brave leaves sleep on the path.
Curler lady comes smiling, kind.
Her sweeping brush is old,
Maybe her mother's once.
It's crooked yet cruel;
It beats the pebbled path,
She swings it; breaks the gate.
Robert Mann
Tue 13th Jun 2017 00:56
Laura - I love the first stanza, but get lost with interpretation of the next two. Who do the pebbles represent and who are they in fear of - Curler lady? This piece raises curiosity and I feel that there is a darkness beneath the surface. Need to know more.
Rob