Sensual curves gleam in the light.
They fill my sight
with your soft glow
and yet… I go.
Your beauty rides upon your skin.
Nothing’s within.
You’re cold as ice.
It won’t suffice.
With bags in hand, I close the door.
I need much more.
I won’t enshrine
your vacant sign.
Author notes
Prompt: Picture
Picture Credit: http://northstargallery.com/cars/car283web.jpg
20 – 100 words (51 used 
)
crux - something that torments by its puzzling nature
Form: Minute Poetry is a poem of three 4-line stanzas with a rhyme pattern of aabb. The syllable counts for each line are: 8, 4, 4, 4 – and that is repeated for each stanza. The meter here is iambic, meaning that the poem has a pattern of unstressed and stressed syllables.
A contest entry
- PIF Quickie..Picture Prompt ..63rd Contest by Spiritualangel by spiritualangel.
625 points, ended February 27, 9 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Critical Comments Always Welcome
Comments
-
With bags in hand, I close the door.
I need much more.
I won’t enshrine
your vacant sign.
beautiful. best of luck -
Oooh, this one here is a killer, such imagery and word choise, makes it a perfectly written poem
Best of luck in the contest
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