Pipe Cleaner Visage
He gifted his girl with a doll
he brought home from every trip.
Oh, how the beauty would enthrall!
Always her heart would flop and flip.
A doll so rigid stiff and straight,
she had to have a pedestal
just to support he couture’s weight!
Her fashions were incredible.
Her essence was molded plastic.
Her hair and eye color unique.
Her formal wear was fantastic,
fairly fashioned of worthy pique.
Each doll distinct in color and dress.
A favorite, a darked-haired beauty.
Her frock of emerald finesse,
not just another frail cutie!
A collection long lost to time
as is each chenille pipe cleaner.
I cherish moments of their prime,
and their glamorous demeanor.
Copyright © Linda Alice Fowler | Year Posted 2023
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment