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 Poetry inspired by The Beatles for The Beatles Musical Extravaganza. |
| She's better than me and she knows it, with her two solid wings and a puffed-out chest. Sitting in a nest of the finest Norwegian wood, she's cast a spell on me I can't quite decipher or reconcile. I flutter clumsily, wings withered by time and circumstances unkind though she rarely takes pity on my less-cultured frame. I know what I know and can't help myself but be awed; yes, I'm flawed. She is my fault. The nest I'm in bears no eggs and my once-powerful chicken legs barely balance me as I gather myself to watch her ascend. Soaring as if to never land again. It lights me afire and I burn myself to comprehend a way to make myself seen as to be so admired like she is by me but that's when I smolder. Over and out, no way I can show her what my love's about from this exquisite distance in her Norwegian wood. "Isn't it good?" Answer her, I wish I could. |
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