Just one look


You’re a luminescent light in a dark grey world.
No bling necessary; it pales into insignificance next to your beauty.
Metal on hand, that piece does not suit you.
A classic band of gold I think you would suit.  You suit me.


There is no need to advertise your full time commitment.
It is clear from your beauty, you are already meant,
For another to love, but all sane men would look in the hope,
That there had never been a tan line on your ring-finger…but no.


These eyes do not lie or deceive.
True feelings left to their dreaming,
Of what might have been,
If only there could have been a way;
And one day I will forget you…but not today.


No other has come along who could ever replace,
Or compare to thee.  They are less than could be.
I know you will never be mine,
But all wandering minds are fixed on thou
And all of thine divine beauty.


In a far off land lives a travelling man.
He once saw you as you passed by his window.
Since that day he has scaled mountain tops and mined his way,
Through all the gold, always asking, do you know?  Do you know,
Who she was?
Once seen, never gone.
Unfortunately you will always remain,
Lost.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

I know a girl that piles on the necklaces
“Makes me look pretty,” she says
She’s all nervous, high-pitched laughter that jangles
as she fidgets with her armored collarbones

Rose red rashes bloom around ivory flesh,
She scratches at her skin inflamed
Ring ring ring around her pretty little neck
With those posey necklaces and gemstones

She smiles fondly at each reflection
of chains and rocks entangled
Wrung wrung wrung of beauty is she
Bitten so fiercely to her ivory bones

Her laughter hacks into little cough spurts,
and the metal winks dully as it strangles
Ring ring ring around her rosy little neck--
she piles on more necklaces.

Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

Amber beads unearthed from clay,
Fashioned by my artist love,
Glowing yellow, filled with day,
Captures sunbeams from above.
I still love them.

Some say gods have made these,
To ensnare the light of Sun,
But we women saved these,
In memory & hope of sons,
We keep them.

Fat & smooth as butter,
We turned them in our hands.
The bone beads scraped with madder,
The amber just with sand.

Those of shadowy carnelian
Embedded like a shield,
We treasure as we fear them,
Like wounds on battlefields.

The others soaked with brownish earth,
Sere and yellow,
Rough and round, [bright pebbles in a mound]
Pitted and mellow,
Winding our necks round,
We wore them.

So, when we are dead, take not from us,
These rounded, golden suns,
But bury them with us, with sword and severed buss,
To revere the slaughtered ones,
Who never returned to us.

Revised November 15, 2016

For my sixteenth birthday she gave me a locket
Which I keep inside a bag, inside a box, inside of my drawer
All shiny and silver, with initials engraved
Carved on its back the date forever saved
It is resting undisturbed, never worn out
Though I try it out from time to time
Put it on by the mirror and wonder to myself
This is who I would be had things stayed the same
I shake my heavy head, unclasp it from my neck
The last piece of you at last is removed
And yes, I do try to forgive
But to this day that locket stays
Inside of a bag, in a box, at the bottom of my drawer

I don't put it on anymore