Sunday, December 17, 2006

Mr. Right

“A waiter came to me,
Excused himself and blurted out:
“Mr. Right is waiting outside,
Would you be kind, madám,
To follow?”
My heart, first, dropped,
Then yelled and shout,
My body’s stiff and numbed:
“It is a Sign,” I mumbled,
“It is a Sign,” I sighed…
* * *
An there he was,
Bad teeth, the biggest smile,
An old friend of mine,
Tiny, pitiful and shy,
Mr. Seymour Reit”

Saturday, December 16, 2006

"Self-portrait "

"A young woman
In a black and simple dress
With a delicate white collar,
Dark old-fashioned desk
With a single candle
Tearing wax,
Books, papers, and notes,
A bottle of ink
Are lavishly covering

A quill in hand,
Long fingers, silver rings
Are richly spotted
With purple ink.
She’s staring at
The flickering flame,
Searching for words and images,
Recites what isn’t written yet –
A dreamy woman,
A little Poetess".