There was a lady
with immaculate black
ponytail. I eagerly looked
but not one hair was
disarranged. And not
simply the ponytail. It was
this soft, slick, shiny, furry,
perfect, oval jewel on her
pate. Society would dub
me creepo if I had chased
her, but her red pants
fit too perfectly and her spicy
white blouse exploded
roars of light too good
for this rotten neighborhood,
so I wanted to tag after
and listen to her tell me
about all of the good things
that have happened to her,
listen with glowing eyes
to her indefatigable beauty,
but I am no creepo, so here
I sit, dead and dumb.
.
stillfugue 
#1 by Writing With Love on August 27, 2012 - 9:34 pm
Beautiful
#2 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:28 pm
Thank you for your comment. You’re very kind.
#3 by janehewey on August 28, 2012 - 9:59 am
I thoroughly enjoyed this colorful, beaming write, Carl.
#4 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:33 pm
Thank you so much for your comment, Jane. I appreciate it.
#5 by Evelyn on August 28, 2012 - 2:13 pm
this is so sweet, strangely enough.
#6 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:34 pm
Thank you, Evelyn.
#7 by Find an Outlet on August 28, 2012 - 10:06 pm
Oh it’s so not fair, that lovely women in red pants may not be approached, and the more lustrous the ponytail the more distant they become…but they are meant to be the subject of beautiful poetry, and so they have their place…making the creator much more alive than he imagines.
#8 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:35 pm
That is a wonderful comment, and I appreciate it.
#9 by Imke Rust on August 29, 2012 - 2:39 am
Striking!
#10 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:35 pm
Thank you for your comment.
#11 by Victoria C. Slotto on September 1, 2012 - 7:15 pm
Smart man! Although it sound a bit like she might have wanted to be followed.
#12 by Carl on September 6, 2012 - 7:40 pm
Ha Ha! That is funny, Victoria. Thanks for commenting.