Cyber girl at random

Fern
Her hands are barley warm,
Her sight is flaming hot,
Her heart is miles away,
Her mind is worlds apart.

She petals board of keys,
With gentle strokes of love.
She’s sending scripted self,
With postal cyber-dove.

Sapphire sheen of light,
Adds only to her eyes,
That rapture through realms
With ardor and agrise.    

Her face is wiry-pale,
No wrinkle can be seen.
Emotions t’no avail -
Unyielding to her mien…

Her hands are slightly warm,
Her sight is more than hot,
Her heart, two seats away,
Her mind ’ll be never caught.


© Copyright: Fern, 2004
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You are so gently lyric.. :) I really enjoyed this poem, it sounds like a whisper, like a declaration of love to somebody perfect and unthinkable.
Warmly

Юлия Фидельгольц   17.11.2004 19:04   •   Заявить о нарушении
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Thank you Julie, as always. The imagery was brought by a girl sitting right next to me at Tryst (cafй/lounge in DC) --- she doesn’t know about it. Yes, she did seem to be alienated, unreachable, quiet and perfect --- to an extent. :) Perhaps I’ll introduce her to what she had inspired next time I see her.

Best!

Fern   19.11.2004 15:56   Заявить о нарушении
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