The 12 inch heel, the confident gait, The measured steps, the sudden halt, The blush on cheeks, the smoldering eyes, The hands on hips, head held high, The silken gown, barely there, A tilt of neck, balanced well, The sultry glance, timed right, Perfect half twirl, played twice, With a graceful swirl, she turns back. The world looks on with stolen breath, Oohs, aahs, applauds, encores. The showstopper’s yesterday, Now hangs in a gallery, Fading parchment, guarded unnecessarily. No shadows of glamour come a-chasing, For vacant eyes and sagging skin, For shattering illusions, hanging questions, Am I never going back? Linking with The Mag : Mag 147 Linking with Write on Edge : The Red Writing Hood - The Gallery Linking with My blog can beat up your blog : 100 Word Song : Never going back to Ok Linking with The Velvet Verbosity : 100 Words - Breath
That's a terrible condition, nature may do this to the whole world if we ignore the signs already given..
ReplyDeleteYeah, that's one terrible condition. No one is heading the signs. Thankfully the dreaded drought is overcome in most of the India now. Thanks for visiting.
DeleteSo good! I send up those same prayers.
ReplyDeleteWe all were doing this till a few days back. We have had some relief now. Thank you for visiting.
DeleteSuch great visuals to paint this bleak--but not hopeless--picture.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Jennifer for your kind words
DeleteI can feel the hot, dry air in this. Makes me think of Oklahoma. Evocative.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I am glad the aridness comes across.
DeletePeople should really use the word askant more often. Your piece reminds me of a dream I had where I was lost in the desert.
ReplyDeleteI am sorry you can relate to the dryness. Even i like the word askant - gives a sort of classic feel. Thank you so much.
DeleteSuch tension in this brief poem -- I can feel the narrator's struggle.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Estheria for reaching the core of narrative
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