Josephe Buchanan (09-29-1979 / New York)
My September girl is a master of her own inner Sanctum.
Her beauty is paralyzing to onlookers, who never seen that side of her continent.
My September girl gave me all of her love, soul, body and attention.
She will always be a treasure in this man's heart.
Her beauty is art and when she would leave, he would ask where is thou art?
My September girl has an inner door, that can only be opened by a special key.
This key he did not obtain, for this chorus was, and is still in his mind, and brain.
Never can be to intoxicated off of her love, for she is like wine, and spirits, that never left a hangover.
My September girl comes from March, which can be seen as Mar's, for her visage was alien to me. What can I see when I look in her soul?
My September girl is Godly and deep. When she was with me she was asleep.
Now that she awoke from that cloud of smoke,
she realized her uncanny potential, her uncanny soul, and spoke of a dream where she was as sweet as September.
Comments about this poem (September Girl by Josephe Buchanan )
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