Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Monday, February 17, 2014
Brown Stone
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| Universal Studios Lot, Instagram by sessepien |
At cross purposes, my bike walks
to your apartment, for let, to wake
a free spirit determined to leave
these brown bricks
dappled in sunlight and a promise
of celebrities for view.
© Gerry at Strummed Words
Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.
Monday, February 10, 2014
Sexy Pout
Visit Magpie Tales for poetry and prose using the picture prompt.
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| from Magpie Tales |
"I'm too sexy for my love
Too sexy for my love
Love's going to leave me" *
* "I'm Too Sexy" is track #2 on the album Up. It was written by Fairbrass, Fred/fairbrass, Richard/manzoli, Robert. Read more: Right Said Fred - I'm Too Sexy Lyrics | MetroLyrics
That being said
What's the pout
for again
don't wait for
a response to
your witching ways,
said the man on the grandstand.
© Gerry at Strummed Words
© Gerry at Strummed Words
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Piano Feet
Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.
My toes find purchase on your keys
While I swing my arms, open to the breezes
of time that pass by in the sun's arc.
Tiptoeing around your curves,
the cure for a malaise throws itself
casually back to the skies,
The dance goes on with the music
of an inner being playing with abandon
the notes of this curling time.
© Gerry at Strummed Words
My toes find purchase on your keys
While I swing my arms, open to the breezes
of time that pass by in the sun's arc.
Tiptoeing around your curves,
the cure for a malaise throws itself
casually back to the skies,
The dance goes on with the music
of an inner being playing with abandon
the notes of this curling time.
© Gerry at Strummed Words
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Cobbled Sidewalks
Visit Magpie Tales for more poetry and prose using the picture prompt.
Cobbled Sidewalks
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| New York at Night, Vivienne Gucwa |
Cobbled Sidewalks
Walking head down, on cobbled sidewalks,
I remember wintry mountains,
Sparrows feeding in the snow,
a wooden feeder filled
with dry brown seeds.
The bright lights of the city call to me
but so do the songs of birds on the wing
fluting in the trees or fluttering
for space on a birdfeeder
standing on a trellis in the snow.
© Gerry at Strummed Words
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