New Year
And so we associate ourselves withPeople we would not normally mix with,
Sharing canapés and cocktails
In past colonial splendour that
Does appear rather obsolete now.
It is in such frivolous mood that we
Enter these festivities with a fervour
Our shoes clicking on the floors
As swirling chandeliers waft down
Streamers that look like silver rain.
A man sits at the piano playing
Seasonal love songs to matrons
Intent on flirting and fitted into
Frocks that strain their corsages as
They smooth wrinkled silk over hips.
We dance and mingle our effervescent
Selves bubbling with the spirit
That we so determinedly acquire
To be squired on the dance floor
With a stockbroker from Hull.
At midnight we link arms with
Those swaying chums and exchange
Fiery kisses that in the morning we
Would wish had been just
That slightly less effusive.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2007-12-19 at 10:42
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