April Poem 12
I sit by the sea and try to write
But all I can do is stare
At the girl with a shining pearl
And cappuccino hair
Her head is down
And she has a frown
That's like a crease in the sky
Her face is smooth
And pure and nice
Like a conman's perfect lie
She gets up and goes
Almost floats away
Glides and soars as if a bird in flight
I sit still and long after she has gone,
I sit by the sea and write.
But all I can do is stare
At the girl with a shining pearl
And cappuccino hair
Her head is down
And she has a frown
That's like a crease in the sky
Her face is smooth
And pure and nice
Like a conman's perfect lie
She gets up and goes
Almost floats away
Glides and soars as if a bird in flight
I sit still and long after she has gone,
I sit by the sea and write.
Comments
but all she can do is frown
taken a muse by a scribbler from far
or maybe from the same town
frozen soul,
some tired hopes
a noisy, sad seashore,
ired by the foul,
the numerous nopes
and ired to her core
She breezes off the coast
climbs up a tower
and really does jump down
she who was taken muse
by a scribbler from far
or maybe the same town
the scribble-child
and his noisy pen
are yet pretty far from white
he sits smug
by the sea-shore
taking a bite and trying to write