Friday, February 28, 2014


Her hair waves out of a pony-

tailed to flap with the wind

whispering melodies – she leans

slant on her frame

holding her frills, she sways

her frock, shifts rainbows

of fleeting moments - she cares not

for the ticking needles, meeting herself

again and again…

weaving cerulean dreams kissed

crimson glory

Leaving me in the mirror - insipid

      ‘Can I go to play?’ she glides… away…

MeetingTheBar: Character Matters...cabling missed to post and link. 

1 comment:

  1. yes, please let her you are seeing your inner child...or the one you once the song of her hair...the cerulean dreams is cool too...smiles...

    ugh on the cable issues...glad i caught you...


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