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Open Poetry #47

below the terrace

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

0 posted 2011-04-04 07:59 PM

She sat with a blond misfit of eyes
That seem to translate what I could not.

She sat with a composition of poise
under the terrace
That stood just south
Of where the people conversed and laid out in the sun.

Her hair was a long straddle
A ladder if you will
That seemed to carry the people around
Their homes and find each other
Just below where the eastern wind could never flow

I touched my shoulder once
Rubbed my fingers twice
Took the cold out of the coal
And sunk my eyes only so deep
I could find her sitting on that bench

Spirit to spirit
Where the love of a man
Began at the spot below a terrace.

Alison

Member Rara Avis

since 2008-01-27

Posts 9318
Lumpy oatmeal makes me crazy!

1 posted 2011-04-09 12:39 PM

This reads like a fairy tale and I like that quality of this poem. I love how you compae her hair to a ladder. I can see it ... and I really enjoyed your writing.

Alison

Tomer
Senior Member

since 2002-06-28

Posts 1168
Michigan

2 posted 2011-04-10 07:07 PM

Thanks for the kind words, Allison. Happy you enjoyed.

Cheers

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