Her Most Beautiful Smile,,,

My favoured attempt at poetry, feel free to share opinions and works.

Drawn to her, Familiar her face, Follow will I, Footsteps, no trace.
As if to float, my movements echo, behind here lead, I go I go.
Dressed in black, for reasons unsure, I try to remember, what this is for?
She is so serious, her face afrown, unbeknownst to me, what is wrong...

She shakes, she trembles, quaking it resembles...
Hand to her forehead, water from the eye, I am saddened, why does she cry?
Wishes of comfort, birth from my mind, but only follow do I, This perilous grind.
A church she approaches, what business has she here? Attentive I will become, in eye and ear.

Though distraught, greet people does she, with a smile and so forth, I watch on in glee.
For this smile, her most beautiful smile, I can remember now, Her face familiar, no frown.
I recall her, a friend no doubt, but then again, the memories are about.
Not so much a friend, now that I think, just a person whom I knew, Yes, yes a mood sink.

I tried to be her friend, no time had she for me, too many other things and people, you see...
Worried for her, cared for her, helped her, I did.
In return naught, naught for my effort did I get.
Unhappy with this, I fled, I fled.

Yet still I cared, still I cared. Concerned was I, in her abscent stead.
Where did I go? I remember not, but there she is now, I best begot.
Though forsaken was I, maybe amends we can make, atleast before I die.
I continued to follow, into the mass, the priest he spoke.

Saddened was he, as he finished, up were a few more people, to the podium thee.
They spoke of a man, a man they well knew, was this a Eulogy? and if so, for who?
Their words pierced me, apparent and clear, For I too knew this man, but from where?
They spoke highly, of a man with great respect, I felt proud, for I probably held him dear.

Caught in these words, I forgot my friend, everyone got up, to walk to the end.
One last payment of respect, see him will I, but first I must seek her out.
Looking amongst the faces, scoping for her in the front, not paying attention, to those passing me by.
Hard to find, yet still I tried, until once again, her smile caught my eye.

She was approaching the casket, ran to her did I, I met up, right behind.
My arms outstrectched, embracing her in full, it felt quite nice, this wholesome pull.
No reaction from her, no motion nor shrug, once again I am but a bug,
Over her shoulder then, did I peak, into the casket,

I wrote it on the 24th of December, 2006.

No reaction from her, no motion nor shrug, once again I am but a bug,
Over her shoulder then, did I peak, into the casket, I saw the man....

...I saw me....

u said before , you never fell in love . how could u write this then ??

beautiful Cajunspirit!
"No reaction from her, no motion nor shrug" you paint quite the picutre 🙂

Its sad. did this happen to you? and I don't mean you've dropped dead or something

I had feelings for a Cancer girl, often her feelings or my feelings lead as inspiration to write.

This has all to do with appreciation, a necessity for Virgos.
I simply figured the poem would reflect my thoughts on how it is to feel unappreciated.

lbr, I'm in love now... strange and uncomfortable business it is.