Paupers Palace

We would live on a shoestring,
share spaghetti strands,
buy red wine
that wilted flowers
yet it made us smile.
That big iron bed
with mattress springs
sprung and an endless dip
that held our beating hearts
so close, your breath became mine.
Hot chocolate mornings
as we warmed our hands
and watched dawn
crisp and fresh
steal across a sleeping city.
We never minded the cold
as heat consumed our souls.
You would wear a smile,
as I burrowed beneath
rough blankets
wearing borrowed socks.
You stole my hat
and twirled an imaginary moustache.
I loved you even through
the grim reality
of our paupers palace.




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 796 times
Written on 2014-02-02 at 12:46

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sagi
You know true love when you see one and this is it!
It shows us that life and happiness is not what your TV says or the lifestyle magazine says.
2014-02-04


shells
When nothing else matters it's this beautiful, nostalgia at it's finest.
2014-02-03


Peter J. Kautsky
Reminds me of the opera La Boheme. A beautiful sensitive description of a pauper's palace!
2014-02-02



Lol ... I've been there too. What a great poem!
Ashe
2014-02-02



To be young, in love, and totally unconcerned about money--now that's worth writing about!

Loved it.
2014-02-02


NicholasG
As Joni said, "You don't know what you've got, 'till it's gone!"
Lovely Elle! Brings back a simpler time, before the world invaded my consciousness! xox
2014-02-02


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Seattle, 1973. How did you know?
2014-02-02


Åsa Andersson
I just loved the mattress springs sprung and an endless dip.
Beautiful piece, nostalgic but not too much so.
2014-02-02