The wicked paper window,
flaps down a tarmac stream,
wraps colourfully a lamppost
displays, vibrant and obscene
tantalising, tales flicker fleeting,
a thousand blinking stories
winking white at passers-by,
hinting at once-golden glories,
with a murderous, glinting eye,
cantankerous and caterwauling,
pulling Gods down from the sky
hawking squawking pulpy lies,
and though it lies now broken
the living window never dies.
Picture by Roberta Justin, available to buy at: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/55802482856281813/
This is fantastic. I’m an admitted sucker for alliteration, and you have employed it expertly here.
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Haha, me too Miranda, thanks for the kind words! 🙂
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This was awesomely executed! I enjoyed it, thanks for posting.
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Thanks gnjcs! Glad you enjoyed it. A poem is nothing without an audience 🙂
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