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Poets' Coop's E-Group Forum: A Virtual Writers' Group

Need some feedback on a work in progress? Try the Poets' Coop's e-Group. Cut & paste your poem into this free "electronic bulletin board" for others to critique. To get your own creative juices flowing, maybe you just need to reflect on another's poem or to give our monthly Poetic Challenge a try. Come give some constructive criticism. Check back often to see what the others have to say or check the box to get an email whenever someone has commented.

Poets' Coop's E-Group Forum: A Virtual Writers' Group
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Brief Encounter

Brief Encounter.

An uneasy glance across the room.
A second glance, none to soon,
She's looking at me, thats for sure,
She's very smart, with much allure.

The guys she's with, seems to care,
His arm around a waist that's bare,
She turns him, with his back to me,
Her eyes just say, she can be free.

An uneasy wriggle in my seat,
Where and when, can we meet?
Who is she then, and what her name?
I sure enjoy this flirting game.

I reach the bar and get a drink,
Then ask the barmen, who,s that in pink?
He shrugs his shoulders, nonchalantly,
I havn't a clue who she can be.

Im heading back to my seat,
Her lovely perfume my nostrils meet,
I think he's twigged it, I saw him glance,
Our obvious glances spoiling the chance.

He kinda heads her to the door,
She gives that look, whats this for?
My stomach sinks we've lost our chance,
My brief encounter has no romance.

JB©©


Brief Encounter.

An uneasy glance across the room.
A second glance, none to soon,
She’s looking at me, thats for sure,
She’s very smart, with much allure.

The guys she’s with, seems to care,
His arm around a waist that’s bare,
She turns him, with his back to me,
Her eyes just say , she can be free.

An uneasy wriggle in my seat,
Where and when, can we meet?
Who is she then, and what her name?
I sure enjoy this flirting game.

I reach the bar and get a drink,
Then ask the barmen, who’s that in pink,
He shrugs his shoulders, nonchalantly,
I havn’t a clue , who she can be.

Im heading back to my seat,
Her lovely perfume my nostrils meet,
I think he’s twigged it, I saw him glance,
Our obvious glances , spoiling the chance.

He kinda heads her to the door,
She gives that look, whats this for?
My stomach sinks we’ve lost our chance,
My brief encounter has no romance.

JB©©
Paula brig



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