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Open Poetry #47
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O' Janice
| Open Poetry #47 |
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O' Janice |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
She drew the melancholy of the wind Like the bridge of her thoughts Were hidden around her bedroom door Her name was the tallest of the words Coming to the wooden floor I think she had the name of her mother Sweet Janice, o her friends seemed To call her by her first name I remember those long stockings She use to wear When her mother called her up the stairs She wore those shoes with those red straps on the end Her name was Janice Falling down the terrace Falling down the wind beneath Falling down Underneath my dreams I think I saw her name Like it was my own The way the road use to curve The way it use to bend its words Against the summer high of its own IÕll never forget the words she would leave by my bed Never forget those lips That sudden urge to find The wind once more I think I see her name down the alley I think I see her name just a little Bit farther down the road to the valley DonÕt tell my friends where I am I think IÕll be gone for just a little longer OÕ sweet Janice. |
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| © Copyright 2011 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
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dreamgal Member
since 2011-03-17
Posts 442 |
In a word.... Beautiful! Dreamgal |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks, Dream. Happy you enjoyed. Cheers |
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JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
Enjoyed...James |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks, James..hope all is well Cheers |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Mega-beautiful! Owl |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks, Owl. Happy you enjoyed. Cheers |
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