Free Cee Herringbone Hemmed
HERRINGBONE HEMMED
Surely she was a tailor born
Altering me with her alluring nature
And silken thread coaxed through the eye of a needle
Each stitch rich in rewards of grandeur
Every inch sewn by a hand with instinctual care
And woven when the woman willed it so
I stood before her as she measured my frame
Precision was of primary concern
As her amber eyes scanned the canvas of a man
The way an artist falls upon a scene he feels compelled to duplicate
Be it a landscape, a lake, or the loveliness of Lucerne
I was to become her masterpiece signed by a master
Prepared with prismatic proficiency
And painted with pristine probabilities
While she brushed my torso with her cheek
Hemming my herringbone while heightening my hopes
A pin placed properly where cloth kissed leather
A reminder of where to lay her thread
As thoughts of second nature filled my head
I became hers to adore and adorn
For surely she was a tailor born
But too often a model rebels against the stitch
And points the pin to providence
A fate that prohibits precision
And dulls the needle with which she sews
While the cloth she claimed was cashmere frays
An unrecognizable remnant of ruin
As silken fabric becomes gabardine
While twill lays tattered and torn
Because surely she was a tailor to mourn
© 2006.…free cee!
Copyright © Jeffry Cohan | Year Posted 2012
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