Memory of a love affair that never happened.

Memories of Karen

Not long after we met
But after much
Intense talk
I knocked on her door
In the middle of the night.

And wonder of wonders
She opened the door
In her night shirt
And invited me in.

She got back into bed
To stay warm
And I sat at the foot
Hoping that after
A little more talk
She would invite me
To join her.

That didnít happen.

Several months later
She came to my door
Having no money
But, as we all do,
Needing a place to sleep.

It was a small pace
Kitchen and bedroom,
Bath down the hall.
She slept on the floor
In a corner.
I slept with my girlfriend
In the bed.

Every night for a week
My girlfriend and I
Came home from work
To find dinner already made.
It was always chicken
But it was never the same
But always good.
She was some sort
Of chicken magician
And than one day she vanished.

I had put my faith in talk
She had put her faith in chicken.
But love had escaped us both.

Poetry by Budart
Read 283 times
Written on 2012-02-15 at 02:41

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ken d williams The PoetBay support member heart!
I smilde but did lagh as the poem/storys tels more of the love in freindship , if the love in the friendship been consummated then the more iportanse of the love in the friendship may of died

I was startled by Lawrence's comment, for funny was the last thing that occurred to me. Tragic, poignant, sad, real. Not funny, not to me. Ok, "chicken magician," is funny/cute. Still, what is more sad than missed love, of chances missed? This made me ache, not laugh, maybe because when it happened to me I wasn't laughing. I'm sorry if I missed something, if it was meant to be funny. The image of Karen small and huddled in a corner, of you at the foot of the bed, hopeful, are strong images. The whole poem is strong.

Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
A fine poem, and funnier than hell.