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reece-aj-chambersPoems
The man decked in blue      sits quite content           on a sofa                and observes wealthy offspring                waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth           glossed with potent peppermint.      These teens don't know love, lust is all it is.      While the Jazz bops away,           more whisky is poured                and they zip out to get jammy.                The man, mid-twenties,           kind of blue, dapper apparel,      has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings,      cute blondes with flawless skin,           guys in suits, bow ties, the works,                gaze into each other's pupils.                There are regulars,           Robert, the chap from Yale,      Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh,      these two want to have her           but she's astute,                knows just what she wants.                They're all after her in fact.           Every male in the room      turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss,      all the men want a taste           but there's not enough for everyone                and they don't look like the sharing kind.                The man in blue           just grins to himself      thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.
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Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC
Blue Candyfloss
The man decked in blue      sits quite content           on a sofa                and observes wealthy offspring                waltz in flashing their brilliant teeth           glossed with potent peppermint.      These teens don't know love, lust is all it is.      While the Jazz bops away,           more whisky is poured                and they zip out to get jammy.                The man, mid-twenties,           kind of blue, dapper apparel,      has one on the rocks. Sees them walk in most evenings,      cute blondes with flawless skin,           guys in suits, bow ties, the works,                gaze into each other's pupils.                There are regulars,           Robert, the chap from Yale,      Quentin, sly guy at Harvard and Carly, still at school the man believes, who's coquettish, fresh,      these two want to have her           but she's astute,                knows just what she wants.                They're all after her in fact.           Every male in the room      turns their head, can't blame them, she's like Candyfloss,      all the men want a taste           but there's not enough for everyone                and they don't look like the sharing kind.                The man in blue           just grins to himself      thinking how grand it is that he's single, sensible, secure.
Written: June 2012. Explanation: A poem written in my own time. The characters and situation are made up, with the girl's name suggested by a friend of mine. The title refers to the man, who is dressed in blue, and the reference to the girl being like Candyfloss.
reece-aj-chambers
Written by
reece-aj-chambers
33/M/English
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 10:27 AM UTC
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