The Moth

By luigi_pagano
- 209 reads
Fluttering by
the incandescent light
he doesn't see the danger
poor mite.
Mesmerised as he is
by all the dazzle
he's worn to a frazzle
and feeling weak
as he goes round in circles
aquiver with desire
to kiss her glowing cheek.
But he hasn't got a chance
of a lasting romance,
nor of casual flings,
as the intensity of her fire
burns his flapping wings.
© Luigi Pagano
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Comments
Romance just isn't fair for
Romance just isn't fair for the poor moth.
Though I like your poem Luigi.
Jenny. xx
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Ah, I like the idea of a moth
Ah, I like the idea of a moth in love with light and trying to kiss her hot cheek. Lovely. Rachel :)
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Looking amorously for his
Looking amorously for his latest flame is a damn nuisance, Luigi, having just had a spate of Moths and Mayflies flying round and in my bedside lamp! With their huge wings and/or legs, flaying about inside round the hot bulb, or '....her glowing cheek' as you call it, the dust they shamefully reveal and throw up! Love too, that phrase 'aquiver with desire'. Enjoyable fun read!
Bes, Trevor
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