Barberella Angel
some things are simply wrong,
call me pedantic..this way..
I was born..
But I believe, at Christmas,
when you come to deck the tree.
Fairies or Angel's require innards.
that's how it's meant to be ..
Look !
Not a hollow skirt..a half torso..
you rotten ratty lot..
making a slot for the tree..
not that fiasco..
I want full banana fairy at the top,
with singing and dancing pins..
incase she may want to entende..
or piroutte...
A little saunter..and yet..
that will be impossible..
without Angel's wings..
dancing blind..
disabled by choice of
manufacture..how unkind..
I was shocked..
and then I thought of real life
of all the little innocent children..
born into challenging situations,
and I put back my Barberella
Angel on the tree..
All Angel's Matter.
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Comments
another wonderful poem
...its been bothering me since I was small...and it surfaced to the top today, shall have to put a lid on it, before it becomes an obsession...funny how you go eon's without an idea in your mind..then like busses they come all at once. X
Hey PAULINE!!.....I Really like this.......it painted some lovely images and brought back some Christmas memories as well.....but what I liked the most was the way in which you rhymed within lines and then where you'd expect them.....it made for a fine flow to the whole as I read!!......ALL STARS!!.....well done dear poet sister!!......LOVE & ROCKETS!!.......T xo : )
Thanks Tony..nice to see you getting about..x