Sometimes I indulge in a little free verse. Sometimes I indulge in bars and shout “Free Bird!” Anyway, hope you like it.
Desert Inn
Lovers, like impressions in clay
leave behind their sweetness.
Blue eyes, brown, this one, that,
a lifetime.
How many kisses in the dark?
Adoring, no hesitation, only love.
I welcomed you like the sun
pouring over me,
a golden glaze
never hardening.
Wraps round me now, a whiskey spun cocoon,
mere memories.
No regret.
I breathe. I live. I continue,
the sum of every tender touch.
Push into me with mercy, I pray thee, recollection.
Check your daggers at my door.
Screaming neon vacancy sign,
glowing evermore?
Kinda where I was going. Literally.
About Jean Ellen Whatley
Crapola! You write prose AND poetry? *itch!
Jean, I love the images, especially the “whiskey spun cocoon.”
Well now you’ve gone and proven that you are also a poet. Your visuals are poignant: impressions in clay. May the good memories calcify.
You continue to a amaze me!:))
Love your poems. Still remember the one you wrote for Big Bro….I shed some tears.
Ooops. I forgot to put a smiley face after “*itch” to indicate my tongue was firmly in my cheek. The curse was hurled your way with love (and envy).