Lovely
by Amadea N Katz
Tuesday, October 05, 2010
Not rated by the Author.
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Sophisticatedly in each
other's hands. Sworn to
one. Measure life, no
one really has. Does life
have a limit? This is not
so. Flushed with grief
from faded roses,
swimming in their red
illusion. They were
once white. Painted,
with a shaking hand--
swarms at a time.
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| Reviewed by Regis Auffray |
10/6/2010 |
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This kind of poetry reminds me of your mom's Amadea. It is fine but it often leaves going... ...huh??? But that is just me. If you read my "stuff," it's pretty simple. Also, you might want to check the spelling of your first word in this poem. I think that if I interpret your poem to my "thinking," it is symbolic of things that I can relate to in my life. Thanks for sharing and keep on writing. Love and best wishes,
Regis |
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