The neon lights of the world are dancing again in quiet passion
when I stand with you under the neighborhood drugstore window
hung with garland and manacled with wreaths,
lights blinking like old mens' eyes
It's Christmas time, you know
the season of dark berry leaves and rockabye dollies
when we'd huddle telling stories around a phospherescent fire
and you'd whisper in my ear, little flashes of lightening
that glowed orangly because we were alone.
Author notes
wellll, it felt like neon at first, then reminded me of Christmas and my love, and fire and dancing little lights and the quintisential corner store at Christmas time.
A contest entry
- flicker by Death of the Author.
1000 points, ended December 11, 2008, 20 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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i love this so much, what an absolutely wonderful poem & scene you set.
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glowed orangly - glowed orange.
Neat job, thanks for your entry
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