Starlet




















She was a peculiar kind of girl;
a creature of curious curtsy
and midnight adventures till dawn.

Beneath moon pearl lightly,
she would climb high,
to see the board's pieces.
Freed from being a pawn...
if only for a moment.

And I, a boy with too big eyes,
would trace her outline
and tuck my observations of her
in between my notebook's creases.

There was something of atonement,
in her freedom from the ground,
as if purity was being
ten feet closer to the stars...

How I adored her from my window;
cherished the jewel I had found,
till time took its tragedy
and I lost her
amongst the blurred cars.


~~~~
trying for substance, rather than rhyme scheme. its a work in progress.

Comments

  1. The special poignancy of unrequited love, and then that horrible permanent loss. Nicely done. Thank you.

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  2. If this is a work in progress, we should all compose poetry as 'works in progress' ~ simply wonderful. My favorite line? .. 'as if purity was being ten feet closer to the stars'

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  3. Dear your work always has substance, and we all are writing in a work in progress....I have the same problem with not rhyming...I always seem to gravitate to rhyme...even when I set out not to....a lovely write as always Michael! :-)

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  4. works well indeed...thanks for sharing this

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  5. Love Stanza 2 and also the way you have worded your tragic conclusion

    till time took its tragedy
    and I lost her
    amongst the blurred cars.

    ReplyDelete
  6. this is ridiculous

    ReplyDelete

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