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Sunday, February 8, 2009

Under the Lense of Innocence

Obsidian like eyes dart
to and fro playing tag
with questions and answers.
Shyness is a trait
yet to be learned by
her heart that still beats
a brave rhythm, her tears
always dry by morning.
Under this lens of innocence
the dirt on her tired limbs
is a fairies good luck kiss,
the cracks in paving stones
to be avoided no matter
the weather, and others
glances to be defied
with an unrestrained smile.

4 comments:

CathM said...

Sarah. Great three lines:
“Under this lens of innocence
the dirt on her tired limbs
is a fairies good luck kiss”

And, thanks for the new word in my vocab ‘obsidian’!

CLAY said...

"Obsidian like eyes dart
to and fro playing tag
with questions and answers."
Miss Paige, you have a thing for beginnings. This hit me like a first kiss--do you remember how your first kiss was? That's how the start of this poem hit me. Brilliant. Absolutely Brilliant. Bravo.

Boredum said...

I love it... it reminds of me of those special days in my life... absolutely fantabulous!!!


Loving ur poems..,
BoreDum

Meena said...

I have felt the person in the poem.