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Late one night, 
Louisa sat alone in the garden,
On a stone seat in the wall;
And as she looked out across the roses,
The silvery mist rolled in across the lawns
Trailing sweet dreams from the distant woods.

The scent of roses filled the air 
And the bright, pale moon illuminated all.
This silvery scene seemed to whisper dreamy 
Words of the joys of long hot summers 
And the sadness of lost romances…
And amid these fragrant fantasies 
The moon’s undulating reflection 
Silently sailed across the dark lake,
Until there was nothing left to see, 
And no words left to be spoken.

© Paul Hegginson 2012

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Time to go dark and reflective with this one. Paul gives us a glimpse into something otherworldly with this poem, taking us to a scene of both fantasy and familiarity.

If you like your poetry (and we assume you do, as you are here, after all), check out our anthology “Concrete Jungles”, a collection of 14 poems on the subject of the city (details in our “publications” page). You won’t be disappointed, and you’ll be helping support new writers.

As always, leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

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