He stepped onto the terrace,
just beyond my line of sight.
I could hear him clearing his
throat against the night airs.
Somewhere a clock would
confide the lateness of the hour.
What could attract him to the
fog-shrouded environs?
Elegant fingers splayed on
a wrought-iron display caught
my eye from the corner, but I
could see no more than this
enchanting tidbit.
Trying to orient myself to
the vast swell of the night,
I wished for a keyhole through
which to take a naughty peek.
Like caustic peppers bite
the flesh, curiosity bit at me.
He was a gourmet feast just
waiting for me to dine.
He stepped away into shadows,
leaving me with burning curiosity
and a pillow to tell my story to.
A contest entry
- Word Bank Quickie by Polaja.
1200 points, ended October 19, 2008, 12 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
This is an intriguing picture that you have painted ... I really like the use of the words from the wordbank - they are effortlessly and seamlessly inserted here
thank you for your entry!
Keep writing
Polly
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