I wrote this with a blues sound and rhythm in mind, accounting for the slight lack of finesse in the words I got time on my hands and no one to see Things don't keep me busy and aint nobody calling me I got an empty phone thats all out of rings And a person in mind Shes out, im sure, with a mile-wide grin I've burnt a hole in this chair and stared down this bland room Been pulling out my hair And listening to the blues Oh I'm waiting for her call Her brown eyes, gentle neck Voice so clear, and skin of soft, sunny sand I got time on my hands
Your ending is wonderful. Skin like 'soft, sunny sand.' And then clever you, you bring in that deft closing image. What better a thing to hold the sands of time than your hands. If only that sand could take shape and be your girl with that incomparable complexion! This is for the naysayers out there:I do pay attention- and I do get it. Thank you,MM, you've done well!
Great bluesy poem, loved mile-wide grin & skin of soft sunny sand as well. I can feel your tension and anticipation here.
Beautiful poem, I could see a luminous blue light filling the room. Moon, full and weighty, perching on branches in the old oak.
