Open Poetry #13 |
The Mistress |
RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
The Mistress From across the bay He could just make out The surf and the shore Giggling. He could hear the bells As they told out loud Of his soon to be tinkling Decency. He thought of his child, Of his wife, of their kin, Yet the errant swell Rose under him. Then the ports flew up And the guns ran out And he fondled the thought Of the magazine, as FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! Burst out When the love of his life Roared out of him. RMW |
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Tiersdin Member Elite
since 2000-11-17
Posts 2364east coast |
Very interesting, Robere... *Chuckles* ~Tier |
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Irish Rose Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263 |
I didn't understand the part about the magazine? Kathleen Blake |
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RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
Tier..thank you. Bob Irish Rose...the magazine is where the powder for the guns would have been kept. Thank you for reading. Bob |
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Lady In White
since 2001-02-12
Posts 2799USA |
Such an old world feel...I would really like to see you stretch a bit, Sir, and expound on a seaman's life, using the language of the early to mid 1800's.... I think it is a challenge well worthy of your pen. |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion |
So much poignancy in this, Bob. Cor |
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nakdthoughts Member Laureate
since 2000-10-29
Posts 19200Between the Lines |
hm...I took this poem in many ways...I guess it depends where our mind is when reading it ~Softsmile ~Wynter "The worst prison would be a closed heart". |
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