Debbie Guzzi Poet Free verse

The Lost Kiss

The walking trail around the lake
crunches like a full bags of crisps 
at a Fall football game.

The oak leaf refuse curls frost burnt inward.
The manmade lake still, motionless 
a covering of snow cone slurry 
drapes the depths.

Prepubescent boys lob mud covered
boulder bombs through the lakes sheath.

Babies born in Winters night
emerge enthroned in umbrella strollers
whooshed in cocoon-buntings by 
proud twosomes through the Sping mud.

Jogging homemakers
with fish bottom white legs 
hurl themselves round and round
the circular track careening past 
young lovers who can’t unplug.

Missing the first kiss of Spring.

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Jo Hayton March 19, 2009 at 12:53 PM This poem makes me feel as if I am right there, the description is so unique and I can explore everything seen so clearly... Beautiful writing Deborah, absolutely stunning!!!

Robin L. Gass March 16, 2009 at 1:03 PM This is such a beautiful and vivid write, my talented friend. Excellent poetry, Deb! Love and hugs, Robin

L'Nass Shango March 16, 2009 at 6:53 AM I found it in your love, exciting poem, keep there, because you an Kristine are two of my favorite poets. Lines like this: whooshed in cocoon-buntings by proud twosomes through the Sping mud. - is the why

Kristin Reynolds March 16, 2009 at 2:06 AM So sad.this is why It's great to be a poet, we see the things others miss. well done, love, Kristin

Lena Townsend March 15, 2009 at 6:21 PM Such a tender write, sad as well. To miss something so beautiful would be shameful! Beautifully written with great imagery! Smiles from Lolita

Charmaine Chircop March 15, 2009 at 4:02 PM this is so romantic,you make us feel we're there,im becoming a fan of your poems;cheers-charmaine

Carrie Richards March 15, 2009 at 3:16 PM Great visuals...can picture all of it on a new spring day, when all have come forth, out of hibernation, to take a walk, around the lake in the sun.