A Poem by Andrew M. Bowen

Chattlebury Park

A rising wind flicks ripples
from the sun-flecked river.
Kites float in the air
and clouds laze far away.
Grass fresh mown sends you off in time and space.
The day beholds everything,
wine and beads and smoke,
love waits just around the corner,
and happiness is just to live
in Chattlebury Park.

A lady waits there;
Mystery is her name.
Straw hair flows down Venus' back
she smiles with turquoise cat's eyes
and her body flows like a river.
Wine-sweet kisses make you drunk
and lying within her arms
you come to know eternity.
You take her where the blossoms fall like rain
in Chattlebury Park.

Tomorrow beams a million years away.
Life says:  live for now
and feel the rush of this moment
because all time stretches ahead
and nothing seems vital
in Chattlebury Park.

But phantoms rush from every corner
and laugh inside the blushing ear:
"Tomorrow is here and you've still got nothing done."
The sky turns gray, the wine to sour lemonade,
and a dustdevil scatters the blossoms
in Chattlebury Park.

Andrew M. Bowen works as a sales manager.  He is trying to publish his first novel.  He has appeared in eight independent films and five stage productions.