It Was Late Spring Poem by Julia Klimenova
It Was Late Spring
It was late spring.
That day I woke
And felt my things
Stare hard at me
Expectantly.
I plucked the strings
Of my guitar,
Vibrating so
Impatiently.
I dressed and went.
My coat was white,
Carnations red -
The signs that cried:
Look, I'm here!
For him to see me
Instantly.
I roamed the streets
All flushed with hope,
And then turned pale
To match my coat,
But still kept smiling
Desperately.
Now spring is back.
So I go out.
I'm wearing black
To celebrate
One year of almost
Meeting you,
My stranger.
Secretly,
I wait...
I like the descriptive language, the sense of expectation, and the quiet sadness. Warmly, Gina.
Wearing black is a good approach. Still, you might try chasing the men a bit though instead of waiting any longer. Perhaps they are a bit intimidated by you if it is all up to them. Perhaps they do not feel as though they are in your league. If so, they will fall all over themselves with joy that you pursue them. Confidence is intoxicating.
Dear Julia.. It's the second poem of your I read and realy it's fascinating your poem shows that you are in the way to be the laureate Klimenova
good sense of relaying the mysterious, Julia. a solid offering.
The sense of expectation in this poem is marvelous - - hanging there, right on the edge, waiting!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 7:25:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I like the originality of the thought behind this poem. Nice.