Les Ballons Poem by Tom Billsborough

Les Ballons



The blue lines of Alsace
And Lorraine! The rounded
Blues of hills sweep out
In many waves from bilberry
Meadows to the pale exteriors
Of finite space, suave
Elisions of the Frankish tongue.
How we long for such peace
To smooth away the jagged
Fears of conflict in our world,

Thursday, June 23, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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Tom Billsborough

Tom Billsborough

Preston Lancashire England
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