Open Poetry #48 |
french liaison to her childhood years |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
She boarded a train to France her eyes glancing down at her watch waiting for it to exhale down the canal where her grandma, Isabelle use to listen to the jazz sea blues She wore a white, cotton sweater jet black heels to match her tight fit pants As winter, like wine bared its name in the ground as the train traveled through the night She wore her hair down for the memories of running through the plain-clothed streets with her small, bare feet sat well with her that night The french of the said lips where red met an underlying feel of the rosemary tips of cemeteries that buried her heart that night That bare the French chateau overlooking the canals that spoke to the star lined night and lay idle as the candles slowly lost their wax to the moons rise. |
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© Copyright 2012 Tomer Fried - All Rights Reserved | |||
JamesMichael Member Empyrean
since 1999-11-16
Posts 33336Kapolei, Hawaii, USA |
A pleasure to read...James |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Thanks, James. Happy you enjoyed. Cheers |
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
Another Tomer gem, each word, 'le mot juste' and not a brick out of place. Whilst you make the reader long to know more about her, a lot of the charm lies in the enigma. The description brings her to life in a perfect blend of present and past, and the last two stanzas are magical. Owl [This message has been edited by OwlSA (09-11-2012 04:04 AM).] |
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Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
Owl- Happy you enjoyed - Especially the last 2 stanzas. You pretty much nailed what I was trying to do, as always. Take care. Cheers Tomer |
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