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Wrapping a Gift (Free verse) by Dovina Alone in my closet,
of manifold wrappings,
I look for the one
that suggests a sly gift.
Perhaps a suit, like a lawyer in court?
Heâd deduce pretense.
A logical No.
The hippie skirt with tasseled brown top?
Opinionated, heâd think,
Sheâs full of herself.
Should I look slinky, revealing and bare?
Too bold, heâd muse with a smirk.
Maybe jeans and a shirt,
clothes a man could wear?
A tigress, heâd see.
And God knows Iâm not.
The old-lady dress for impressing the folks?
A preacher for sure, sheâs in for the kill.
The cotton print shift, casual and free?
She doesnât care, wonât even dress up.
A gift in red velvet, conservative, plain?
Not cliché, or elegant,
but alluring in form.
Yes, he will ponder
and say with a grin,
She inspires imagining.
Up the ladder:
You Fell Asleep First
Down the ladder:
A tribute to our most precious Pearl
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 7.2
Posted: August 24, 2005 2:21 PM PDT; Last modified: August 24, 2005 3:11 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.2622466 Overall Rank: 3977 The following users have marked this poem on their favorites list:
Comments:
[10]
INTRANSIT @ 64.12.116.67
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24-Aug-05/2:58 PM
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Reply
A bunch of no-nos. By that I mean you can just lose the beginning nos', the changes of mind.
[n/a]
Dovina @ 12.72.4.44
> INTRANSIT
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24-Aug-05/3:12 PM
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Reply
Hold that thought, and try it again, please - revised.
Yes this makes me happy.
My job is done here.
Who cares what he thinks anyway. I say, Cork Pumps and a pair of daisy dukes should do the trick!
Who cares what he thinks? Who cares what he thinks!!!? Are you not listening to all the times I've harped at you? I care! You man, you. Oh, I see, you're one of those guy who says he looks past the clothes, so they don't matter. Well, at least allow me the fantasy.
This will be me on Saturday night...yup! I shaved my legs and got me a date...lol...*10* :) Bethy(a fav!)
Hey, that's great. How about a spaghetti-strap top with a crinkle-skirt, just below the knee, so popular in Paris these days?
My dear it's merely a matter of T's and Dâs.
You can choose to be chaste or choose to be chased but rarely is a woman both of these for most men are lead from their waist.
led
A matter of T & A, rather.
I happen to be listening right now to a song with one of the sexiest lines I know:
- So go outside in the desert heat, get your dress all wet and send it to me. My suggestion: White cotton panties and nothing else.
Zodiac! a kindred spirit, at least as far as that song goes...my all time ever, forever and ever, favorite! Isn't that the absolutely sexiest freaking song you have ever heard?! The entire song is about her in that dress, for those of you who don't know it...David Bowie's 'Cactus', off the Heathen CD...Is worth a definite listen. Oh...cool poem!
Um, okay. But the song's originally by the Pixies on Surfer Rosa. It's a different song when you hear odd, fat Frank Black singing that line.
Oh...I didn't know! I will have to find it and have a listen. So I take it it is not as sexy as Bowie's version? Bowie's is Hot, Hot, sizzling Hot! (In my opinion...!)
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