The London Limited

She's as practical as a railroad engine

And as compartmentalized as a designer bag

But she can make you flow just like her long blonde hair

And leave a circle around your heart just like the rings her wine glass leaves

In the morning

When it's over

When the tracks are cold

And the train has gone.



Kelly said…
*gets the heavy duty heart cleaner out*, spritz, spritz, spritz. You keeping me busy today! I don't think the stain is as stubborn as the one who created it.

the other thing that occured to me, is with compartmentalised bags, you only finding that which you tried to disown, and it can leave a bad smell on your fingers...

another day, another poem ;) xxx
Jannie Funster said…
Oh dang, girl, you are on a roll with all these beautuful poems!
Fireblossom said…
oOoo thanks for the spritz, K! I guess my thoughts on compartments are that they can help a person survive real pain, but they can also be confusing to others. Thanks for all the comments, K, they are appreciated. :-)

I'm on a roll, Fun One. One good thing about writing poems is that the most hurtful states of mind can be assuaged a bit by creations that come from them. Thanks for finding beauty in them.
Mama Zen said…
I like this one a lot. The "compartmentalized" line is very cool.
Riot Kitty said…
Love the images this conjures up.
A railroad engine is practical; until something challenges it like a car trying to beat it at a train crossing; or my personal favorite, when it loses its power.

Don't stop now. I'm borrowing spritz from Kelly *spritz*
Kelly said…
lol... *puts a special pink-pouty spritzer in your rucksack* - you never know! x

yeah, shay, but you know my theory, one day yours or someone elses! hand goes into 'that' compartment, the one right at the back and all hell breaks loose!...

*spritz spritz spritz* ~ lol
Fireblossom said…
Psst...I just wanted to use a big word, Mama Zen. ;-)

*sets out some cream for the Riot Kitty*

You are spot on, Pouty. More than you know. ((((((Pouts)))))))

Hey K, watch it with the pink'll scare Helen T.! And as to the hand, it was someone else's this time, literally. Remind me never to leave my bag in the room while I have a bath.

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