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Open Poetry #46

Cassandra's Dream

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2010-05-03 10:16 PM

She sat there with her eyes taken
So long, her hair was puzzled
Never drawn to another sad set of eyes

But a fixture stood tall
Stood so brazen, like the legends of the fall
The legends of the doors that entered
To a virtuous tide of her soft, slight back

Sitting along the rifle black seats
Of the bars long steep
Into the midnight ware
Her faucet black hair,
And the envious red dresses
Wrinkling their tight ends
Waiting for her to slip
To miss a sip, a smidge on her dress
A cough that will drip

But hopes are dashed
For she sits like the wedge
Between bridge and city borders
Along the line of desert and wind
She lies with her body and face
Channeling the dark red storm,
Until the morning walk,
Where she can be seen spotted
Blushes and leaves,
Torridly dreaming for the night to begin, once again.

JamesMichael
Member Empyrean

since 1999-11-16

Posts 33336
Kapolei, Hawaii, USA

1 posted 2010-05-04 08:40 PM

Fine writing...James

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