Poetry Friday 35

Poetry Friday 35.

Poetry 35 nearly didn’t happen. These three poems are very much works in progress.

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Lipstick in a handbag

What was she searching for?

That little girl who

only smiled

in her own language.

The little dragon that

blew smoke

but no fire.

Like searching for a lipstick

in a handbag,

she was sure it was somewhere.

but it remained elusive.

Last dance

Our dance was like we

were the only ones on the floor.

The band playing

just for us.

Agility, grace, balance,

we glided as if moved by magnets

Two bodies, one movement.

But then, I stood on your toe,

you stumbled

and the music stopped

We left the crowded dancefloor

alone.

There’s always tomorrow

Up to my ears

in procrastination.

So busy finding excuses

that I nearly forgot not  to do

What I had on my ‘not to do’ list.

Industriously putting things off

until tomorrow

what I could

do today.

Conscientiously dawdling,

shillying and shallying.

Frittering away the day because

there’s always tomorrow.

So there we have it, number 35. Let’s see what number 36 brings. Have a good weekend.