on nights when the rain embroiders doilies
i am writing to you to keep my hands warm
the rainpuddles are not forgotten and
i tell you that the next storm is coming
carrying crowns
on the streets, oil slicks
these are your rainbows
hung out to dry and
childhoods?
they are like our love
they are a beach
and i don't know the words i will write
until they turn against me
like an outgoing tide
you were the trellis the stars climbed
when you dreamed of me as
the sweet face of the moon
Comments
Hello,
I, too have seen the rainbows in oil slicks.
you were the trellis the stars climbed
when you dreamed of me as
the sweet face of the moon
This is absolutely lovely. There is longing within your words.
always, Cat
Thanks Cat, appreciate it.
Thanks Cat, appreciate it.
Hi CC, I went shopping and
Hi CC, I went shopping and was thinking about your poem. Some small tweaks I'd make, but
the largest one is omitting the last line and the word as.
you were the trellis the stars climbed
when you dreamed of me,
sweetly.
and then I'd call your poem *Moonface*
lol sorry Anna but if JC
lol sorry Anna but if JC comes by she will understand when I say under no circumstance would an Australian call this Moonface unless my name was Patty Newton...lol
Yes. It's amazing what you
Yes. It's amazing what you have forgotten until someone reminds you, i remember seeing rainbows in gasoline puddles.
...And returning to the poem today, CC, (though I don't get the Aussie side joke) all is wonderful as is, sometimes I think wayyyyyyyyy too much; it's not good for my word constipation, oops I mean constitution. (Just kidding, plumbing's working fine.)
~A
LOL Moonface
Anna...please google Bert Newton...he is an aussie icon in the entertainment field and he's always had the nickname Moonface and I am sure his wife loves him dearly but....as this is personal lol you had me seeing his face instead of who it was intended for and that almost made me gag lol...:D