Date: Tue, 28 Jan 1997 15:14:46 -0800 Subject: SUB: Valentine's Contest: "The Woman": Poetry There's still time to send your entry! Check out http://web.mit.edu/mbarker/www/val97/val.html for details. Please reserve all critiques on contest entries until after Valentine's Day! ###################################################################### The Woman She sits by the window as I watch from our bed. My passion spent, I glow. She has not left me alone and her poignant fragrance Still wraps thru my senses. The red robe she wears, heavy and strong, like my love. Curling, partly open, baring her warm skin to my languid eyes. The room is hot. Moisture beads paint her milky white body. Her hair, straight and long, tangled by the passion of our love. I love you, I love what you are. She says to me, so forcefully. Her lips curled in a Mona Lisa smile. Her eyes focused on mine. I smile, roll over to rest. My eyes slowly close and I sleep. The world floats by and I am safe. The scent of the bed reminds me of her. As I awake, I look to the window. Fear breaks sharply into my heart. The room is empty, she is gone. Where is my love, where is my love? Did she see another thru the window? Is love so fleeting that I can never sleep? She loves me! Or so she said. Was it a truth for just the moment? The room is cooler now, her glow is gone. I still feel her presence, but she is not here. What confusion, what pain. Will I ever see her again? Darkness now, and still no sign. My soul is crushed, my spirit fails. Her fragrence no longer lingers. What did I do wrong? All that remains is her long red robe, Hanging heavily, yet loosely over the chair by the window. Never to adorn her again. ------------------------------------------- Sig files are bumper stickers for the computer... without the gunky mess when you remove them. Michelle winebird@inreach.com