She is a lovely girl turned woman
Beautiful inside and curved outside
Like the hood ornament on a 1953 Buick
She loves to give chocolates and flowers
To perspective lovers and their mothers
She buys cards for orphans and the elderly
Visits the hospitals and nursing homes
Still she sits alone most every night for dinner
In a candlelit room with a sad song playing
On the stereo as she sips her wine
And wonders when she'll find her one true lover
She is kind to a fault with perfect smiles so bright
Yet she spends too much time crying in her sleep
She is a lovely girl turned woman
In search of her perfect man
Now that her Daddy is dead.....
Yes, Freud. Damn, it's scary when men have such insight. You pen it wonderfully. As ever. Is there anything to which you can't turn your hand? t x
nice write there sir..........can feel the loneliness she feels..........nice last lines
Having lost my Dad when I was very young as was he [45] I can relate to it..I'm not looking for a replacement but still there can be for many at one time or another lots of lonely alone nights staring out the window, tears flowing that are like a never ending river as your heart says over and over Why, why, why? ? Giving to others helps to fill the void during the daylight hours but nights can be tough...I am saving this one...thank you for writing this.~~~~~~marci.xo. :)
A simple description of a Pollyanna sort of girl with an ache in her heart. Your title says heaps and your poem is eloquent and intensely moving. love, Allie xxxx
From a girl who lost her father, and is still looking for his replacement...thank you, Ted, if for nothing else...just the 'knowing' that each of us is looking.
who am i to say anything you know, because who am i to say anything because i have been reading and liking your work more and more and more, cause birds cant beat down your words, but if you just, and sorry to say, but replace the word knight with any poet ever, you think dreams, , ok keats, , , think showers you got poe, evening followed by field whoever, , but that sounds funny in me, , i just replaced knight with keats when i read your piece, and it made less sense than you did, but wow you got me reading, , , when i see you post, , i usually stop my winter weather and let spring breathe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I am sure that her knight is on his way, lovely poem.x