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Click herePetticoats and blossoms
and secrets and charm;
please come fix my dolly,
she's broken her arm.
Through a whisper and a song
I survey a concrete savage from his belly.
(Won't someone love me? Won't someone come love me?)
I stand, a silvery maiden, behind a dusty, dimming dream
looking backward for him
(Fuzzy moustache and streak of wavy brown hair,
a voice that booms and conquers me with love.)
Will he come again?
Will his feet, heavy and slow, whisper past and
crunch and crackle through the snows of my life
and enter my door?
Licorice and gumdrops
and toys on parade;
and where is my pretty,
my little blue maid.
They come and go, the faceless men,
the nameless men,
shining knights in rusted armor,
bearing a banner whose life is but a moment.
("Ah, you're a good one! I like big men!")
My life is measured in a sprinkle of moments.
A brief pleasure is my gift
in exchange for my mind's agony.
And a slightly pretty woman
dusts her soul off
and creeps slowly
in tomb beat
toward
oblivion......
Pianos and bracelets,
a tinkle, a glim;
a harp plays in heaven
a little girls hymn.
this is beautiful! I am glad I took the time to wade through your myriad offerings to find this one. Good work. :)
NJ