White shoes click clacking.
Rosie and I snaking our way through the indigo gloom,
Two verdant escorts in tow.
I was one of those kids who had to recite and learn poems as a party piece for the grownups. It became a self-fulling prophecy that my life has been filled with the tapestry of poems. Now I write my own, and I would like to share this one with you.
White shoes click clacking. Rosie and I snaking our way through the indigo gloom, Two verdant escorts in tow. We separate. The crimson paint splatters over her head, She sinks to the back to hide behind the monolith. And he came running after her chastity, As she spins in her Tardis prison. Black night, white sheets. The pin digs into the folds. Stop Go Stop Go, As she vanishes into the next dimension, Pinned to the blue walls. A mixed blessing. During during, wires crossed. White wedding. White out. Sheets left. Tuesday at two, He's not revealing his crystal sword To the BTeam down at the grapes of wrath, Where Liberty Bodice meets Pinfold. Bye Red Dwarf. I'm screaming. In the next dimension where crossed rackets shine, Pinfold Potterite sings hallelujah. And my sweet child drops from my arms, His head bobbing down the gritty church steps, Boring , boring through my skull, Divided once more. Now the child man clutches his flat headed cap, And slopes along the pavement with his entourage Carefully crossing roads, Far from the Belisha beacons, A day trip to Morrison's. Up to the top and down to the bottom. Don't cough. Asymptotic testing kits have arrived. "We'll pin your sides if you move!" Please EAT and don't mind the robots, As they watch over your zoochotic pacing. Life's a gamble that is often tough. A short life is worthwhile if full of love. Patricia Goldberg ©2020