A man walked up and asked me one night,
“What do you like, my dear?”
And I gazed in his eyes and far past his lies,
Drew a deep breath and replied:
I like white horses with horns,
Winged creatures—air born,
Dragons, castles, and magical things.
I like soft, starry nights,
And cold crisp sounds of flight
Like the leathery flapping of wings.
He looked at me strangely
And took a deep drink,
And asked what I liked to do.
And I gazed in his eyes,
Farther still past his lies,
Drew another deep breath and replied:
I like mythical things
That make foolish hearts sing,
Things like honesty, valor, and truth.
Someone holding me tight,
KNOWING things are alright,
And relationships not hundred-proof.
And he blinked once or twice,
Blew a smoke ring or two,
Left his name and his number behind.
As I watched him depart,
A cold wind crossed my heart,
And that is the reason I write.
“What do you like, my dear?”
And I gazed in his eyes and far past his lies,
Drew a deep breath and replied:
I like white horses with horns,
Winged creatures—air born,
Dragons, castles, and magical things.
I like soft, starry nights,
And cold crisp sounds of flight
Like the leathery flapping of wings.
He looked at me strangely
And took a deep drink,
And asked what I liked to do.
And I gazed in his eyes,
Farther still past his lies,
Drew another deep breath and replied:
I like mythical things
That make foolish hearts sing,
Things like honesty, valor, and truth.
Someone holding me tight,
KNOWING things are alright,
And relationships not hundred-proof.
And he blinked once or twice,
Blew a smoke ring or two,
Left his name and his number behind.
As I watched him depart,
A cold wind crossed my heart,
And that is the reason I write.
(Poetry is not my forte, but I have a book full of these things
from back-in-the-day...
This one came to mind since Dindy did such a good job
This one came to mind since Dindy did such a good job
of covering the other points I was going to make.)
til next time, read and write on.--mary andrews
6 comments:
For someone who isn't a poet, you sure did a great job.
Cheryl M. (The Muse Board)
Mary, I'm not a poet at all but did enjoy reading the one you posted. I particularly liked that very last verse for some reason. I think it was the second line, 'a cold wind'--can't put my finger on it but those three words stuck out at me.
Lea Schizas
Awww, shucks. Thanks guys. I wrote that at a bar long time ago. I wasn't sure if I needed to let the readers know where this happened to make it come across--thru the title or something, maybe.
I'm relieved to read this, and Rob's post (great poem btw Mary!) because while I was writing my post I was afraid that maybe I had the intent of the topic wrong and instead of literary fantasy I was supposed to be writing about erotic fantasies!
Dindy
Hmmmm, could've been fun.
Thanks Dindy.
Late to read this, but I loved it! And yes you are a poet.
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