To the tune "Red Lips"
Tired of swinging
indolent
I rise with a slender hand
put right
my hair
the dew thick
on frail blossoms
sweat seeping through
my thin robe
and seeing
my friend come
stockings torn
gold hairpins askew
I walk over
blushing
lean against the door
turn my head
grasp the dark green plums
and smell them.
Tz'u No. 3
Li Ching Chao
(1)
Poem topics: dark, friend, green, hair, red, walk, head, rise, smell, door, gold, tired, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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