{Irish princess}

She smelled of rain and Jazz
of coffee with Irish creme
this red-headed beauty standing before me

and she spoke of New Orleans,
the cigarettes she smoked between train stops
and the people she collected in memories

she thought of daffodils, scabbed wings
and broken bottles. ... .
and how everything that was nothing
eventually turned into something

she told me, I talked too much
this beautiful hypocrite,
and that the tongue must be a heavy organ,
indeed, few people can hold it.


She longed for a place where her voice wouldn't fade
she longed for romance that tasted like pain.

• A former member wrote: Add my platitudes to the rest here in.
  
  
• On Tuesday, October 21, 2008, Stranger (297) wrote:
  
  This is fantastic. So glad I found it. I look forward to reading more of your work!
  
  
• On Monday, October 20, 2008, The Lipstick Factor (749) wrote:
  
  Lovely write--I'm in complete agreement with After Hours--that line shines!
  
  
• A former member wrote: Anything irish grabs me by the scruff, well written and clever use of phrases,.."the tongue must be a heavy organ indeed, few people can hold it"...your above and beyond your years. aye..a wee gem indeed.
  
  
• On Tuesday, October 21, 2008, Leith Plunkett (371) wrote:
  
  These lines are so different. In total agreeance with After hours. something unique here :-)
  
  
• On Sunday, October 19, 2008, Echoes of Orpheus (693) wrote:
  
  hmmm, very very different than your other recent posts, this was well written Pix.