Good Morning

With the small flirty pleats
She flounces.
There is the ever near fear
Of pounces with this baby girl
Painted and mouthed to my

With no sense escaping
She insists upon moving
To declare her sweet beliefs
Which of course are written
In stone...nope I'm wrong!
That's channel number five!

How innocent and sweet
She is.
How I want to keep her sleeping
Just for so long...
I shall of course invite her
To fully wake up
It is our delightful duty to
Bid ourselves to declare
Good morning.

Here there be no boys.
And you are going nowhere.

Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 1089 times
star mini Editors' choice
Written on 2009-09-30 at 05:12

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Hans Bump
I loved this poem .
It's one of the favorite pieces I've read, not only on this site, but anywhere. It stands on its own without any critique or analysis. That would spoil the delicious flavor.
I will leave it at that.
Reading it was a pleasure. Hans

Flounces are good but once the game is played, there are no boys and girls. There is them and us. No fuss, just meanderings of complicit parlence.