Tin Roof Alley Poets

Poet's Top Floor Balcony - Poetry Showcase - Your Comments Encouraged => Genuine Alley Poetry and Prose => Topic started by: Wordweaver on May 02, 2019, 11:16 PM

Title: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: Wordweaver on May 02, 2019, 11:16 PM
The Time Of Phoebie

I must have walked those Saturday night downtown streets
thousands of times in my 16 year old day dreams. Of course
I looked suave and drew the attentive eye of all females.
But it was Phoebie I would run too and gather to me so
closely while smelling the honey suckle of her aroma.

Being shy does not prevent dreams of hope and building
monuments of the present out across the great divide.
My words had the charm of magic for her as I assorted
them into bouquets of her favorite colors and fragrances.
It was nice hanging suspended in time reserved for my wishes.

Then I heard those fatal words we are moving, not just
in the same area code but far far away. It seems I have
always kept Phoebie selfishly ever so close to me since.
Saturday nights and downtown streets still hold sensations
for me but the stars do not shine as brightly as they did
in the time of Phoebie.
Title: Re: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: daisyxo on May 03, 2019, 03:47 AM
Very nice imagery.  I grew up being the girl that always moved away, so I can sort of relate. 
Title: Re: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: Wordweaver on May 06, 2019, 12:02 AM

I guess you were my Phoebie then since I still hold you selfishly
close in endearment.  I am pleased you liked it.  Weave
Title: Re: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: Halo on May 08, 2019, 12:26 PM

This piece does it's job, I remember! Thanks Weave. xxx
Title: Re: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: Wordweaver on May 12, 2019, 05:40 PM
 Thank you halo it pleases me you enjoyed it.
Title: Re: The Time Of Phoebie
Post by: GaerLlwyd on May 25, 2019, 10:55 PM
Weave, you just gave me that old stomach-dropping feeling.  That feeling of nothing-can-be-done.  Woe on the life that suffers such.