totomai
11-05-2005, 09:10 AM
Japanese Doll
The glass room protects your porcelain skin
against the rays of the rising sun;
bends them to my eyes.
That rainbow halo, a magic of light,
on your face begins my day.
Each morning, before traditional duels
with the teacup, I crawl, over the futon,
toward you to become enthralled
by the kanzashi on your hair.
The pink hue on your face mirrors
the floral kimono you wear.
How I wish I were the pillow on your back
or the paper fan that your delicate hand holds.
When the moon is out, your silhouette
assures me of a good night's sleep.
In dreamland, I could be a Japanese doll too,
with a heart-shaped forehead
and a katana to safeguard you.
Under the cherry blossoms,
You whisper
sayonara
that word wakes me up;
now, pieces of glass and porcelain
cover the wooden floor;
only the kanzashi, paper fan
and kimono remain whole.
-totomai
PS
The poem I wrote sa naging gf ko na Japanese.
The glass room protects your porcelain skin
against the rays of the rising sun;
bends them to my eyes.
That rainbow halo, a magic of light,
on your face begins my day.
Each morning, before traditional duels
with the teacup, I crawl, over the futon,
toward you to become enthralled
by the kanzashi on your hair.
The pink hue on your face mirrors
the floral kimono you wear.
How I wish I were the pillow on your back
or the paper fan that your delicate hand holds.
When the moon is out, your silhouette
assures me of a good night's sleep.
In dreamland, I could be a Japanese doll too,
with a heart-shaped forehead
and a katana to safeguard you.
Under the cherry blossoms,
You whisper
sayonara
that word wakes me up;
now, pieces of glass and porcelain
cover the wooden floor;
only the kanzashi, paper fan
and kimono remain whole.
-totomai
PS
The poem I wrote sa naging gf ko na Japanese.