Tuesday, October 21, 2014

You're so vain

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if you think this poem is about you
if you think you are the only one
I made this decision about
this last weekend.
Moth to the flame
men surround me
offering hopeful half truths
on the off chance I will bestow
the favor of my incandescent smile
let alone the privilege of my time.
I wait, weaving and unwavering the
tapestry of my hopes, ready for
my Ulysses to come to me
though I haven't met him yet
he is worth the wait
a love for the ages, for our lives,
battling monsters and sirens
on the journey to
us.
He's wearily wondering
if he will ever arrive.
Me too.
But I am patient.
Dreaming.
Confident that I am
worth the
anticipation.

3 comments:

  1. Dear friends:

    How do you do?


    It has been a while without running poets rally for free verse, today, when we celebrate Thursday Poets Rally 5th year anniversary, we invite you, a poet who blog and support poetry, to participate,


    To see a free verse demonstration, look at here:

    http://purpletreehouse.blogspot.com/2015/01/poetry-form-week-8-free-verse-january.html


    To join our rally, or submit one or two poems to our poetry prompt,
    Click on the link below:

    http://promisingpoetsparkinglot.blogspot.com/2015/01/thursday-poets-rally-week-79-january-14.html



    Happy Rally….
    Thank you in advance!

    ReplyDelete
  2. October 2014 and your Ulysses was in the final death throes of battle with Medusa........wounded, sick of heart, wounded, he wondered if he would ever see the fall of land, the safety of harbor. At last, out of his mind, he was delivered. Tossed on the shores of a strange land. To be found. To be rescued, nursed, loved. By you.

    ReplyDelete

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