Grandpa Kens

Poetry

The Girl in the Park

A Poem by Kenneth Kunz

The Girl in the Park

A Poem By Kenneth M. Kunz

Kenamar Corp.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Springtime, many a year ago, Was dashing cross Central Park. Rushing, things to do, places to go. Just the way it was in ol New York.

A vision just caught my eye. A girl - sitting on a bench. O dear! Quite a ways away, not so close by Couldnt make the image clear.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

The figure! Ah! But in features lacked. Like a Renoir in color, form and kind, Where the details, indistinct, in fact, Are better rendered by the viewers mind.

Wanted much a closer view, so curiously attracted. Found a bench behind a leafy tree, Somewhat ashamed, the way I acted, Shielding me from her, not her from me.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

She just sat there, in easy repose Lightly absorbed in pleasant thought. Something nice, I suppose. Something troubling, - probly not.

Not mine and certainly not yours. Her thoughts were hers alone, Not to be shared by crude voyeurs. Im just a passer-by, unknown.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Her summer frock was loosely draped. In the dappled shade, she just glowed. Her form: lithe and supplely shaped. In the breeze, her hair just flowed.

She, O grace, turned toward me and smiled. Not at me, by the bush obscured. I was duly truly quite beguiled.

Now a captive; trapped, snared, allured.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Her teeth shown more like pearls than pearls. The oysters nacre has met its match, or more,

The sparkle in her eyes Make the gem-cut diamon Only fit for cutting rock to size. Her flash is from Electra, not from crystal carbon.

These precious gems, the gleaming teeth, this girls, Else only found in fairy tales and epic lore.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Her smile is more than teeth and lips The God-made sweetest innocence Were made for taking honey sips And singing only words with no indolence.

Her body! O My! A dancers one. Just like some sprite, or nymph, or fairy. Dance! Dance about. Music or none, Around, around, so light and airy.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Her upper part was demurely dressed But the form was so very clear, no maybe. Do not compare Dianas marble breasts To her temples, sought by man and baby.

Im immobile, transfixed, still undercover. She rises. Stands up full. O My! To greet acquaintance, friend, lover?

Surely someone else, not I.

The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

Alas! A nice young man comes near. Not a public kiss, but face on face. I feel I should not be here. Their private moment, though in a public place.

Off they went; his hand about her wrist. Perhaps to some place quite near. More likely to some romantic tryst. My mind has no business here.

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The Girl in the Park By Kenneth M. Kunz

They both are gone, maybe home. My breath, my senses come back to me. Ill just sit a while and write a poem

The End

About how life can lovely be.

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