The Poetry Of.
Jan Oskar Hansen...............
Love Me Tender.
I had seen her at the supermarket buying
food stuff and taken her time about it,
she has long black hair in her eyes the bright
sunlight of the savannah;
often on her sensuous lips mirth dance,
I wondered why.
At a discreet distance I followed her home,
she lives in a sweet little house in road
off the main street,
her front lawn was overgrown and
flowers needed weeding.
Rang the doorbell, asked if I could please
tend her garden.
"No, she said, "I have a man seeing
to that.
" Next year? "Perhaps." she said, smiled and
gently closed the door
Moon Lady.
Under a yew tree
I kissed her,
silver mask,
black lips
her dead eyes
reflected glares
from passing
cars.
She crumbled
became ash,
dispersed
in placid air;
a nebulous silk
scarf
slipped through
my hands
Religious Order.
Fun nun, no it's not a pun
stark habit her face, a naked mask
hides hair and ears, can she hear?
It bothers me;
sparkling eyes though, quivering
smile upon lips that have
only kissed the cross,
chastity is Danish pastry. Uneaten;
she dispenses love to everyone
and to no one in particular.
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