Perfection

May 21, 2009
By Anonymous

A perfectly curvaceous body
A crown of golden curls
She smacks her perfect cherry lips
Her blue eyes are like pearls

Swaying like a summer breeze
Watchful like a hawk
A smirk forms on her perfect face
She watches as they gawk

Her skin is baby soft and white
It scorches under hate
Jealousy is burning bright
But they will meet their fate

Seductive, sly, ambitious, rich
A shining star above
Watch her as she twinkles by
Careful not to love

Bow to her as she walks
But careful of her icy heart
Perfection is her middle name
Evil is her living right

The author's comments:
This is a pastiche of an untitled poem by Emily Dickinson it was a poem in my Poetry Notebook, a class assignment

A moon was but a chin of gold





A night or two ago





And now she turns her perfect face




Upon the world below
Her forehead is the amplest blond,




Her cheek like beryl-stone,





Her eye unto the summer dew





The likest I have known
Her lips of amber never part




But what must be the smile




Upon her friend she could bestow




Were such her silver will
And what privilege to be





By the remotest star





For certainly her way might pass





Beside your twinkling door
Her bonnet is the firmament




The universe her shoe





The stars the trinkets at her belt





Her dimities of blue

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