Heather
she is Heather
The very woman
Who belongs to
insignificant pages of the magazine
that he sits reading through...
Her style flaws within the
scripture of that
they call theirs
and defines the word
Belong
yet he smells nothing
of her fragrant charm
and finds no grace
in the elegance of her legs
she is an abandoned heather
forgotten to the caves
of that childhood house
she despised
Whilst he built
yet another canvas
vowing this time he
will find a Rose...
for the embrace
of a heather
he did not
feel kin to...
she is a heather
a feather that was
whisked into
kinky darkness
to swim with
Pluto,Venus, Mars
and the rest of the stars...
Copyright © Neo Bridgette Kitso | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment