Wednesday, December 7, 2011

PASTELS





PASTELS


Pastels....
An apology,
For being,
For having been....
Almost....
Paling.


Paling....
Nightdress, Knickers,
Washed out, drained;
Pegged; hanging on....
Almost....
Biting.

Biting....
Birth pains; naked.
Lungs explode;
In pastels wrapped....
Almost....
Slipping.

Slipping....
Out of....into
Life's sweet paint
On babe-blue mist....
Almost....
Bowing.

Bowing....
Life's orange noon;
It's sunset red;
It's brights, imbetween....
Almost....
Fading.

Fading....
Trapped by Winter,
The flags of life,
Hanging on; pegged....
Almost....
PASTELS.







Maureen Walsh - December 20l1



Ciao for now!

4 comments:

Morning said...

love it,

beautiful and creepy imagery.
Thanks for sharing.

Happy Poetry Picnic.

Shawn said...

The innocent image draws one in, but the pathos that evolves leaves one thinking. Thanks for sharing. Here's my Picnic offering: http://shawnbird.com/2011/12/07/sea-sleep/

Jack Eason said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Jack Eason said...

Hallo Maureen, I loved your poem very much. I thought it only polite, considering your kind comment on my post, to reciprocate and to follow your blog as well.

kindest regards,

Jack Eason http://akhen1khan2.blogspot.com/

I tried clicking on your 'email to' button to pass this comment on, but it caused my system to lock up and make hundreds of empty tabs. :)