Pavlova in the Kitchen
It didn't come with a blow,Not really even a murmur.
It was sunny that day,
Early spring, a cold wind
And your voice singing
Urging me on to the final,
A real last waltz moment.
There wasn't even that
Much shouting, no obscenities,
It could have been worse,
I think we just blew the occasion
The tie on your tux was undone
And the spaghetti straps on my dress
Well, I think they could have
Been the shoe laces, I forgot to knot
And the lie of lace creased.
No, it was an ordinary day,
weather typical for the time of year,
I thought my hair needed a cut,
You'd missed a bit when you shaved.
I slaved in the kitchen over pavlova
And then it was over
It was over.
Poetry by Elle

Read 630 times
Written on 2010-04-07 at 13:16




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