Her mind
was a Mobeus strip
which every now & then
she offered a sip
like a too rich wine
which offended the palette.
She acted like a
fictional character
in an outrageous
historical novel
her bosoms
almost hypnotising one
into ripping her bodice.
She acted out
her life
as if she was a Colossus
like an Ozimandiuis
before it all went wrong
& some guy called Shelly
happened to come along.
She was an aria
in the opera of her life
but right now
she was just sipping from the daintiest of cups
& laughing hysterically at something I said
(which I hadn’t considered funny)
spraying in my astonished face
a soft mist of hot
Earl Grey tea.
'' sipping [..] / & laughing hysterically at something I said / (which I hadn’t considered funny) '' an unexpected finale.. well penned, Dónall
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful poem, - great imagery. I can just see that mist...right now.