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Hi Linda [another girl ] ~

I like its remaining as "mascara" because that's the one thing in our, proverbial makeup kits that is known ~ so well known ~ to "run" ~ it does so in movies, in stories, in real life, and now in a poem. The woman was running, and so was her makeup.

I just really love the poem, as is. The anticipation of it all, yet based on a memory. Not such a bad idea on the last line, Byron; yet, it still works as is.

Great job, Andrew. It's a good poem, as well, because it's getting lots of attention from us .

I need to leave now, but will be back later.

Love,
Lizzy

That was a very fine critique Master Rex Reed!

I didn't know your love of poetry ran so far, so deep nor so very wide! That was such a fine critique, I think I'll read the poem again! Thank you, Sir.

Lizzy ~ You're right about the mascara. The only other thing that might 'run' would be stockings - but she isn't wearing any (I don't think). So, yep, it's good the way it is.

Byron, you did have a good idea for the last line but he last line is a DOUBLE ENTENDRE - how could you have missed that? Are you sure this is Byron, masquerading as Rex Reed, or is Albert working on his own now . Albert, you give Byron back to us, right now! Anway, Albert, masquerading as Byron, masquerading as Rex Reed, it also implies, because the last line can be taken to be a double entendre, that the author of this piece is a fine and unselfish lover.

A 'double' remains. Hence, my transcendental meanderings. In fact it's damn near a 'treble.'

'Yes' is to her, to himself. to us, to the voice, from the voice, and within each of us.

'my love' is her; is my own heart; is my affirmation of a) her love for me and b) my love for her; is a pearl presented to us by the 'voice; is our 'love' at second hand for each of the characters; is the 'love' of each of the characters given to each of us.

'came' is 'arrived'; is grew; is each of the characters wrapped in orgasm; is the declaration of the fulfilment of the love, the act of love, the denouement of the piece; and even the expression of joy of discovering what 'Love' is by the character, the voice and perhaps us?

But that's my take on it.

I am in a usual state of mind. Confused.
The name Rex Reed has appeared twice and those of us here have seemed to have lost the significance of the name.
Did a multiple personality appear and suddenly disappear within this 'Soon' thread using that name?
Curiosity is twisting its little spike in my mind and another also has the same curiosity.
C2 rides again?

Rex Reed is a 'critic' of the arts in North America. He is very well known. He has made sure of that. Just because he's a critic does not mean he isn't a pain in the ... sitting part.

I heard once, perhaps erroneously, that Mr. Reed expired. If that's the case, my deep regrets to the Reed family and friends. If that's the case it would explain a lot. It would certainly explain Albert's actions.

If he is indeed alive and kicking. Well, then. All is well. Then.

Ta! very muchly young pond dipperette. From what you have wrote I can guess that Mr Reed is not at the top of your Christmas Card List (or anybody's Laundry List ) and therefore, you can rest easy in your pine rockin' chair (Staus Quo Commemerative Rockin'Chair All Over The World) and be pleased to know that Mr Reed could pass through this 'ere land and not be noticed by a single soul.

Thanks for the biscuits. (you were having another snooze )

I was? Oh! I hate that! Now I'm going to have to find out where I took my last nap. Maybe I can just backtrack in me 'ead. That way I cain stay in me rockin' chair. And nap some more. You know what rhymes with nap? Map. Draw me one. I know that folks like you have never had a secret chart to get you to the heart of this or any other matter, yet, a map might be helpful.

Take a map in your left hand. Using a small match (a large match is no good, because it can cause crowd trouble, or English disease as the continentals call it) anyway, using a small match light the map. Now comes the spookie bit.............follow the smoke and defy gravity. And you're there.
Learn to not breathe as well. It's very important. As a poet said this afternoon, "breathing air is breathing carpet." Although your meadows beside the lake will be more like fairy dust.

Look at the inside of a vacuum cleaner after cleaning a home. See what the poet meant about breathing carpet?

I'm very familiar with the breathing carpet (many men are not). That might sound sexist but there you have it.

However, the burning map with a small (not large) match is something quite new to me. Have I fallen asleep again? I think that big Nurse gave me too many of those little white pills. Usually, after my shot, they only give me one blue pill.

Oh, and it was you who nipped my cookies, wasn't it? They were cookies not biscuits. Get with the program.

Purse uant, to the flimsy guidelines drawn around this particular ffread, the originator of the pome (a lovely pome Andrew!) resides within a kingdom wherein 'full stops and biscuits' are the ordeuvre (spl) of the day. Surely periods and cookies belong to a land, far, far, away?

Purse uant, yourself. The pome (to which land can we attribute the spelling; pome?) to which your refer is indeed lovely. It is also written in a time when cookies and periods are at least widely known. You read, said and presumaby, understood their meaning.

When it hits the Silver Screen, in the Wood of Holly, you can be sure that those very words (biscuits, full stops) will find themselves on the cutting room floor, likely with a tuft or two of bear fur. Or is it bear hair? No idea where you might find a pome. Add another m and you'll have an apple in French Canada.

Wow, here's another m.
Can I come and get my apple now?

Are you in French Canada?

Add an M, then add de terre and you can have a potato. You'll have to do the paper/scissors/stone with Albert to see which gets the apple and which gets the potato. Being the divvie you be, you're probably going for the potato. However, that is your right. Fight for it, Byron. Fight for it!