mmm hmm. yeah. guess so…

“grey-eyed blonds from London”

she started it all with her picture;
she didn’t need bravery
with beauty like that.
I’m unsure if the glasses
were a joke, or just
the way she framed the world,
but either way they fit
like a glove. I took a stab at
imagining her personality
based only on some poetry
and the passion with which
she threw herself off the page.

when she acknowledged herself
a work in progress,
she did it sadly, as if there was
something wrong with her desire
for constant improvement.
that much came through easily,
like a small taste
of a larger entree.

felt as much as seen or heard,
I want to know the hand
as much as the poetry that pours
through it, much as her eyes smile
while her mouth keeps a secret
under wraps.

for someone I’ll most likely
never meet, I can’t help but
enjoy those sacred moments when
I walk in on her poetry
perched under a picture
of ecstatic hair and green glasses.

——————————
Inspired by doubtfulpoet and all of her apparent bravery. I don’t know if it is to be admired or admonished, but to deny it would be to assume the earth rotates around the moon.

You can find her at http://doubtfulpoet.wordpress.com

Read her poetry and enjoy her words, I know I do.