Laura Carr

 

Vals Poético

 
These poets all romanticise in a masterpiece of words
And I can only fantasise about adjectives and verbs.
The endless time and space between the paper and my pen
This page the only place that I can start to make amends.
 
Remedy me of this writer's block,
Stock and barrel. 
 
*****
 
She entered the ballroom
A crisp blank page,
Elaborately dressed
With vowels and consonants.
Essence of alliteration and assonance
Made her all the more beautiful.
He entered, plosive, explosive
A metaphor, embodying all that
A man should be, personified.
A similar, somewhat familiar
Simile, he took her hand and
They danced. Like a fairytale.
A flurry of flirtation phrases
Entwined, intertwined, underlined.
There is no music, they make their own
With silent, scribbled words, as they dance.
She is wooed with a French kiss
A foreign tongue in her mouth.
Always touching, always moving
Often understated, sometimes over-rated.
And they dance into the night,
Because when it's this good
They could go on dancing forever...
 
But the words, they never fit you see
And they won't, no they won't dance
For me.  

 

 

Laura was a commended Foyle Young Poet in 2007.

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