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| From:  WizeMuse (Original Message) | Sent: 11/20/2005 5:56 PM |
Twyla She came to me as a dream
pretty as youths summer
hot as a sunny day Funny how she looked to me
with her silly little grin
falling at my feet
all for love and a fantasy
all for a dance and a kiss She had a little wiggle
it appealed to me
I had to chuckle at her ease
The way she danced
right up to me How could I resist?
My sweet Twyla
with her jeans so tight
her shining smile
she winks with the stars I dream of her love Wishing she were really true
so I could kiss her just once
and hold her in my arms Twlya is so beautiful ©Dale CJ Clark |
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Ah, the most beautiful rose is that one which cannot be plucked. Funny, when we do pluck a rose, her petals soon wilt and fall to earth. Our fantasies give us what life cannot. I dream of George Clooney wooing me in his villa in Tuscany...Sweet and sensuous write, Dale. You have a gift for combining the two...Lin |
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Hi Dale,  This caught my attention because Tw"i"la is my mother's name.  She indeed did wear jeans and was a gorgeous woman in her youth. I read your fun, sensuous poem to her, and it made her laugh in a way that reminded me of her lively manner before her mind began to slip away. I am so thankful that she was able to enjoy it. You may not have known it, but you gave both of us a beautiful gift. Thank you so much! I wanted also to comment on your poem titled, Long Gone, but for some reason, the comment page would not come up for me. It is especially emotional to me because of the image that you painted so vividly of the cowboy's rugged, and yet tender heart. It is a lovely poem, Dale. Love and Hugs, Mindy |
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