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April 20, 2012 / Sez

Ice Maiden (Poetry Form 38: Zejel)

This is an obscure Spanish form, pronounced “the hell”.
A nice form, but not the best poem today. Not feeling very inspired.

My manner’s always frosty, freezing
Out the ones I find displeasing
Time spent with me’s a bitter season.

I would rather be alone
Than talk for ages in the phone
And never call my soul my own
And so I give you no good reason

To hang around me day and night,
Although I’m gruff and impolite
You shrug and laugh off every slight
I cannot bear your constant teasing!

Though I find your presence vile
I find that in a little while
You almost make me want to smile
I feel something within me squeezing

Could it be that my heart has thawed?
I hope you do not think you’ve scored
Or that you’re wanted or adored!
There really isn’t any reason!


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