She has an Ingres back
She is a violin
And when she’s in his arms
She sweetly plays for him
She doesn’t know the words
He doesn’t know the tune
There’s a duet of sorts
In that sweet dark bedroom
His fingerwork is good
Her mouth is soft and warm
While she is in his arms
They will not come to harm
Her voice is like a lute
And yet he hardly hears
When she tells him of love
He always disappears ;)
Kenneth Eaton-Dykes
Sat 24th Dec 2011 14:41
Hi Ann.I've been neglecting you lately.
lovely poem, Jean August would need to work on bigger canvases these days.
Ken xx
Nice poem, Ann. You've no need to repeat "sweet" though and fingerwork is fine sounds snappier.
Why don't you tag it with WOL Comp for Anthony's thing? It has a light hearted touch to it and there isn't an I to be seen...
I think we should challenge ourselves to write an objective poem about our own sex - it would be interesting to see what we think of each other.
O.H. M.Y. G.O.D...is this the objectification of women I see?
Lovely poem. Beautifully read Ann. Yes - there are cads everywhere you turn - even in Cornwall it seems!
I like the rhyme and the way it seems to so effortlessly flow.
Loved it. Very beautiful emoticons [ and emotions too].
Liked this, Ann, its confident rhythm. And it's the first poem I've seen that ends with an emoticon :-))
Maybe she was jumping the gun!
steve mellor
Tue 20th Dec 2011 09:02
Love the poem despite ...
The absolute cad!!!!
We don't allow cads in Yorkshire!!!!
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Chris Co
Wed 28th Dec 2011 17:46
I like this Ann,
seductive and a nice touch of humour.
My Best
Chris