Poetry by Jeff Green



by cricketjeff on December 13, 2010.  © Jeff Green, All rights reserved

His words were wrapped in roses, sweetly scented, and untrue;
His eyes were filled with love and endless lies.
She kissed him as a lover and he never had a clue
That she could always see through his disguise.
Like artificial roses, plastic loving never fades
And artificial feelings don’t explode like hand grenades.

He promised her the mountains, and the oceans, and the sky;
He’d promised other lovers just the same —
She gathered every whisper, said he’d taught her how to fly,
While secretly she played him at his game.
The dreams that he was selling were just paintings on the air,
But she could see the painter hadn’t artistry to spare.

They ate romantic dinners, shared her bed on summer nights,
He knew that he would win this lady’s heart;
She flattered and cajoled him and she sampled his delights,
But never felt the prick of Cupid’s dart.
His sweet synthetic passion left no bitter after-taste,
She only wanted lovers who were easily replaced.

But as he played at wooing he was falling for his lies,
Believing all his promises were true.
He told himself he’d tell her that he’d given up disguise,
Since she had never given him a clue.
He’d offer her a wedding on a golden Autumn day
But when he came to ask her found his rose had blown away …