San Francisco

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  • Emotional

    San Francisco

    San Francisco

    My city
    Your mistress
    Teasing, tantalizing
    Tropical, Yet cold

    I reach from the east
    And she greets me
    Erect and sophisticated
    Luring me on
    With the deep murmur of life and warmth
    Somewhere

    I shy away and she lets me run
    Knowing
    I will turn around at the Golden Gate
    This must be why I love her
    So white, so untouched

    With a veil of lofty clouds
    Surrounded by a mountain guard
    Anxiously searching in the mirror of an ocean
    Am I pretty, Am I not
    Will you love me, Will you not

    I reach again
    She takes me to her heart
    Buzzing, pulsating, Busy, busy
    Someone laughing, Someone crying
    Is it me

    The pulse changes
    Rising like a drum beat
    I look around and there she is
    In all her jewels
    Glittering, sparkling in the darkness
    Like a queen at a royal ball

    She is magnificent
    Opening new, Different doors
    With warm, yellow lights
    A special glow for each guest

    What about me
    I'm here, Look at me
    Then
    Someone touches my hand
    And I too belong

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Ingegerd’s Poems (2)

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    San Francisco 0
    For Ulla 0