Fondue 07

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1922 Poetry#15.

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~ Transcript ~


Tipsy prose,
Dipped in rhyme,
Must all your verse end in vain?” 
A happy ending-
-needs no friend.
It’s poetry born tucked in bed.
An end in ache –
It only sleeps
rocked all night by my poem’s breeze.

~ fessonia

0443 Poetry#10 – That one night…

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0345 Poetry#2 – Not Again.

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Stuck. Lost.
All but me speed on in a blur.
Looped. Dazed.
Where you see straight, I see a curve.

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0100 Poetry#1 – Had me at hello. 

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Could a moment’s glance really inspire,
promises lasting beyond eternity?
Or is it just the self’s desire,
whiling away in fantasy?
The fool’s gimmick,
an extravagant attempt at flattery –
A hopelessly twisted heart’s
take on tomfoolery.

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