Sunday, July 12, 2009

Baby Blue

The faces of Baby Blue filled disk drives
She was laid out, sad and even holding knives
The lady took to any subject matter head-on
As poetic pause in the Gospel of John

If flesh means the stripped down honesty
Then she shared truth with no modesty
Though the absence of fabric did not release her
She envisioned her pink skin as a mink fur

Baby Blue is completely aware
Baby Blue says her prayers
Baby Blue lives in solitaire
Baby Blue wishes you were there.

Baby Blue healed strained little affairs.
She laid out all deals, and got them square.
But before the moment ended a photo taken
Years later they swear they were mistaken.

Digital pixels captured even complex days
Saved and shared to strangers in many ways
She shrugs her shoulders, and laughs it off
The lady dismisses stress with a little cough.

Baby Blue is a saint, I swear
Baby Blue is in my prayers
Baby Blue has my a solitaire
Baby Blue, I wish you were here.

I can dance the night away in pale bock
Any memory can be jarred with a walk
I can watch the gold grain fields dance
But wish instead to be caught in your glance.

Baby Blue will never leave, and always there
A google image search and all will be bared
A Lady frozen in time, in picture, and mind
She’ll always be the rarest of form you’ll find.

Baby Blue is much to aware
Baby Blue is in most prayers
Baby Blue lives in solitaire
Baby Blue is there when you care.

(c) 2009 Dave Schipper Rose Riversongs.

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