He looks at the poems that I write
With such wonder at its mystery,
Eyes poring over every page,
But he never looks at me.
He looks into the little details
As I plan my travel itinerary,
Squinting into maps to find locations,
But he never looks at me.
He’ll look for my pair of red high heels
As I’m all dressed up in my finery,
Scrounging wide-eyed into musty shoe shelves,
But he never looks at me.
As he looks out of the balcony, now
Waiting for my blue car, anxiously
I wonder, will I ever know his ways of seeing?
And why he never looks at me?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
He never looks at you because every tme he does, you stick your tongue out and it scares him off!!!
CJ-> :P
"Patible"
Because that's the dumb word I have to type to get this comment posted.
"Patible!" I ask you!
Hey C.J! Your comment contains a logical paradox. If he never looks at her, how does he know that "every time he does" she sticks out her tongue.
Keep smilin', folks!
Get you! I got "gednes"
Like the poem. Been a while since you blogged here.
I love the way you write :) Looking forward to hearing more from you!!
-Sarah
this is very intriguing !
...yet, Jesus looky at you 24/7, dear.
So do I Upstairs.
Decide on which eternity
you wanna be in withis:
TurnOrBernie
Blogspot
Com
God bless you.
Post a Comment