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O, your honeyest words glide.
Long has your vase-like stature
Graced the vibe of my lion's pride.

Amid the fierce sunset on caring prairies,
The shadows of an unsought marriage
Sing the melody of my constellation's rise.

Minutes will see the passing of daylight
all together into the silent virtues of night.

Where will your love lead you,
When the parking is taken,
And the meters all dead?

Where will your love find you,
When the seats are all empty,
And the children in bed.

In a minute, the word will be past.
In the soft blow of the breeze,
Your lips will be kissed.
©2007-2009 ~justb
:iconjustb:

Author's Comments

a new poem for ~colettefay

written on demand at #LitFFS [link] (Lit, not shit)

Comments


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:iconamy--louise:
I can only respond subjectively until I learn more about poetry, but I find the second stanza very appealing and the poem as a whole does create a vivid image in my head and I think I get the story it is telling.

:halfliquid:

--
"To avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, be nothing.":frail:
:iconjustb:
thanks

--
"I've taken enough walks alone
to know how real nothing is."
~dystopian-dream-girl
:iconinfrunitas:
The piece draws me up like that long look before the kiss. I think i'm beginning to understand what you meant when you were helping me with my previous work. When dealing with the 'glorious battle' being too glorious, and how it should be averted to love poetry.

--
To twist one purest cause
Into an honest verse,
Itself, a call to angels.
The saddened lips of song that
Kiss away our innocence
From the vile mundane.
~justb
:iconlasagnabomb:
O! the first three
i might like to
devour them

bravo

--
Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.

Details

April 11, 2007
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