It wasn't his station!

It wasn't his station!

A Poem by andrew mitchell

When the warmth
of her tone
fell on deaf ears,
it wasn't his station,
she had the wrong track,
and so the mood
played out on ice
with two glasses
in the making,
she heard the
front door close,
and with it
her goals for the evening
laid bare on satin sheets,
if only she picked me.

© 2017 andrew mitchell


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I'm sure she regrets not picking you Andrew!"And so the mood played out on ice"-"goals for the evening laid bare on satin sheets"-excellent! Well-played and well-done. Loved this.

Posted 8 Years Ago


andrew mitchell

8 Years Ago

thank you annette sorry I've missed a lot of reviews.

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1 Review
Added on May 7, 2017
Last Updated on May 7, 2017

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



About
Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..