Open Poetry #47 |
Confessions of the heart |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
He took her hand underneath the passage Underneath the carrot top building That swayed with 7th avenue I do love how much her heart seemed to bleed When I yearned those words From the top of my soul To the bottom of such a long trail That seemed to snake around the windows and the doors With those locks of summer Those blonde sins of desire I do declare that my heart CanÕt seem to ride the way a woman sees her breasts at night How the self-conscious can creep I do declare that my modest mouth Will lead me to her earnest eyes She sits with the poise of a city Of the quiet lean of a sky-top With the gravel polishing Each point of its surrounding I do confess That sometimes I was nothing more than a witness A bystander For she was so helpless I do declare that She was mine to lose And for that I cry As my tears flow with the willow wind. |
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© Copyright 2011 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
easy1 Senior Member
since 2010-05-22
Posts 1209Southeastern USA |
Good and poignant, this. A singular use of the word "locks", and I declare, if I may, that one can almost feel the willow windborne sticking to one's moist cheeks---albeit without physically crying---after reading your words here. |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Easy, your comments are taken to heart. Thanks so much for the support. Cheers |
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