Posted by willo'thewisp on March 26, 2008, 2:40 am, in reply to "New yarn for old"
121.221.108.158
you have a very distinctive style of prose Beast and should cultivate it more - there is a niche market somewhere I'm sure - and I do like it!
--Previous Message--
: ARTISTE
:
: There was a notion
: That she had no emotion.
:
: So, crossing that floor
: And setting great store
: By each and every peachy kiss blown as she
: ascends the stage,
: The joy enters her heart at making a start.
:
: It's sudden, this tearing of the
: heartstrings,
: this pulling out of the rabbit.
: It could be too late to make her date with
: destiny later,
: rather than the alligator of possibility
: as the jaws slam shut on the trap she's just
: avoided,
: to great clamour, or the fall of the hammer
: (that stopped her stammer).
:
: For she'd been a girl so tongue-tied that
: success had flown in the face of all
: expectation.
: Her ration of life had seemed all but
: drained.
: The strain shown in her face on dull days
: till, walking, she'd caught a ball and
: thrown it back,
: causing such joy she'd decided there and
: then.
:
: So, the nights became her play pen.
: Thrown back and to, to and fro,
: rolled into a ball and exalted,
: expelled from a glass tank under gallons of
: water --
: little daughter waiting at home sees her dry
: her hair later.
:
203
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