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Here we go gathering nuts in May

Poetry By: donkylemore
Poetry


just a poem about an image of a girl who'se looks quite arrested me .
and later her looks deserted her ,


Submitted:Sep 12, 2008    Reads: 174    Comments: 2    Likes: 1   


Her chestnut hair fell across her alabaster brow,

And her countenance was balanced in every way
Her profile so statuesque that it didn't allow

Even the smallest blemish to portray

.

Here we go gathering nuts in May; Nuts in may

That was the face I first saw ; and fell for instantly

Never again did I see such purity of perfection

Expressed so divinely in humanity.

Her beauty without measure ; beyond mere mortal's inspection.

On a cold ; and frosty morning

But that was when she was ten and I nine

Afterwards a traffic accident had scarred her

And tarnished something I'd treasured as if twere mine

And scarred my alabaster love forever.

Nuts in May Nuts in May

Now she swayed against me on a bar stool
And only the chestnut flecks in her rheumy eyes

Reminded me that only a fool

Would pursue that beauty's demise

Who will you send to fetch her away,

Drink had bloated that once satin skin ;
Which always turned a little sallow in the sun
And made her look flowsy now though still thin
The car crash had her beauty defiled and its carnage done


Fetch her away, fetch her away?

She who so radiantly lit my sky

She who swayed seductively on the tennis net

She who I was too scared to try,

To ask to dance one dancing set.


Who will you send to fetch her away,
On a cold and frosty morning?

The thing I worshiped was now gone
And only the owner of that face remained
That face never called me Don

But left me in the crowds unnamed

Wills and Jack will fetch her away,
Fetch her away, fetch her away,

She asked me about botox

But her mutilation was beyond

A bunch of vials in a box

Despite my dreams ; beyond my feelings howeve deep and fond

Wills and Jack will fetch her away,
On a cold and frosty morning.

And my memory of her skipping on a rope

With a rhythmic clumsiness all her own

All too far away and beyond remotest hope

That thing so exquisite of beauty has flown.

******

No more we'll go gathering nuts in May;

On a cold and frosty morning





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