Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
General-Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
Thanks for the nod, General Zod.
🙂
Will Dockery wrote:
General-Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
Thanks for the nod, General Zod.
GOOD DAY to you SIR......!
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
(From the archives)
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
(From the archives)
This one has always been a particular favorite....
Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
(From the archives)
This one has always been a particular favorite....
Thanks again for reading and commenting, my friend.
Will Dockery wrote:
Zod wrote:
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
(From the archives)
This one has always been a particular favorite....
Thanks again for reading and commenting, my friend.
A lovely poem of great power and emotion...
Will Dockery wrote:
Skirt of Printed Sunflowers
Girl of these woods and chemicals
we labor for the black pigs of my poetry
for the bone gods of the sea.
For the secret rose you keep for me
under the skirts of printed sunflowers.
There is a hollering and someone has a
dog that barks
your eyes have that recently crying look
and your hair seems as soft
and your smell as sweet
as before.
As that last time you came to my door
in a skirt of printed pastel sunflowers.
But it has been seen that you look
straight through
I fear that you are already gone.
That night you tried to die in my arms
is something that I will not forget
or make sense of
you and your skirt of bright printed sunflowers.
I think you no longer see anything
and God knows what kind
of love is this?
You told me that you never stopped loving me.
But you could never return to me
in your skirt of printed sunflowers.
-Will Dockery
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Corrected version....
Another of your finest, most lovely poems Sir Doc.....!
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