She looked not unlike the anti-heroine
of her own novels
or was it the other way around?
mousey but together,
...
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Max, I'm open to suggestions! What makes women read on from 'mousey' in her novels, like 'sharp-eyed', but which is visible in her appearance? Actually, she doesn't use her eyes on the bus - but in her writing - wow! She dresses the 'carefully thought-out underplayed chic' way Frenchwomen do...'neat' doesn't carry much weight...gimme the woid, Max!
It drew me in instantly with the promise of its descriptive details about 'her'. I wanted to know more. I was yours. Wasn't disappointed. One caveat, I'm not sure if the word 'together' quite works. It's a hippie colloquialism that should have become so much 'part of the language' by now that one could use it anywhere. But I dunno, I'm not sure it has enough meat to pull its weight. I'm only comfortable saying that because I loved your poem. Any thoughts about it?
Beautifully written. Loved the flow.One of your best.Thank you.
This is the kind of poem that I can only shake my head at and say 'God, I wish I could've written that.
You have all the ingredients I have, Lenchen - farm-fresh, dawn-picked, touched with the dew of humanity - it's all there is, the larder's empty and I don't use substitutes...not a word isn't true, sniff, sob...
Michael, this is superb... delicious, I want more, but know that this is plated-up as it should be tasted, thank you
A sad and moving story. A woman afraid to live differently, unfulfilled, escaping to her novels, hoping to give her life a beautiful form, if not content. Wonderful write. Thank you.