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About This Author
My name is Joy, and I love to write. Why poetry, here? Because poetry uplifts its writer, and if she is lucky enough, her readers, too. Around us, so many objects abound to write about. Once a poet starts with a smallest, most trivial object, he shall discover that his pen will spill out what is most delicate or most majestic hidden inside him. Since the classics sometimes dealt with lofty subjects with a lofty language, a person with poetry in his soul may incline to emulate that. That is understandable. Poetry does that to a person: it enlarges the soul and gives it wings. Yet, to really soar, a poet needs to take off from the ground. Kiya's gift. I love it!
Green Peas at Stake
#578887 added April 11, 2008 at 4:07pm
Restrictions: None
At Lunch (Dew Drop 11)
At Lunch

When we enter the cave of
Duffy's Sport Grill,
waitresses in green confess
their powers of devotion,
commissioned to our orders,
as the din of thousand TV
screens meddle with our
conversation. This deal--
supposedly business--will
take a strange zigzag, for
with mirth and abandon,
beer flows, the holy water
of whooping laughter.
In the opposite booth, the woman
with the navy paisley shirt
and moxie pinches sugar packets
like hunted Easter eggs
into her bag. Our looks cross;
she smiles, so self-assured
her gray eyes that I feel like
offering her my job.



© Copyright 2008 Joy (UN: joycag at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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