Lost equals through three decades,
Chance meeting kindles
Our competitive flame,
Winning me over again.
So you think.
But this is my game…
Now I toy, I tease,
I play,
If I please.
You’re all mine,
So you say.
But I’m not yours.
I’ve triumphantly grown-up;
The guileless girl now hidden away.
Now, capriciously sure that we
Are whatever I want us to be
Today.
But then, I hear you…
Wendy Hollis
Tue 14th Jun 2011 09:47
Alison - thanks so much for commenting and yes, that was exactly the impression I wanted to give. I'm so pleased you liked it and I did dither about the italics. Thank you.
I'm with Alison in being not so keen on the italics. It's like your prodding the reader a little too much. But I like the idea of chance meetings many years on. Of course sometimes the meetings can be a little less chance these days, what with Friends Reunited, Facebook, etc ...
Interesting poetic voice, as the poem starts with the introduction of three decades giving the impression of maturity but somehow after that it gives the impression almost of playground talk. Really made it interesting for me. I've been trying to work out how it would read if the words in italics were in plain text too, just to see if the tone altered. Nice work.
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Wendy Hollis
Tue 14th Jun 2011 09:53
Greg - thank you for your comments, like I said to Alison, I did dither with the italics and I think I went overboard too! Great to get feedback like this and I'm glad you liked the idea, I do think it's one with a lot of scope - watch this space ;-) Thanks Greg.