Star attraction
Fatal moment, first time I saw her,
felt the pull from fifty feet away.
Stella the North Star.
Cool blonde, ice maiden,
northern lighthouse across a sea of faces.
Caught in her frosty beam, I was
drawn through the crowd to her side.
Soon locked in her cold embrace
But I wasn’t the only moon
attracted into her orbit.
She collected satellites,
craved to be the centre of attention.
Her tongue an icicle, piercing the heart.
The North/South divide.
Realising we were poles apart,
I was repelled.
Only a bottle blond, anyway.
Magnetic, not True North.
Very clever Jonathan. Great images. I myself am Magnetic rather than True North, though I hope I’m not as cold as ‘Stella’!
A wonderful and gripping poem. Do you need north/south divide?
Brilliant – I love the way this poem is witty, clever, beautiful and moving all at the same time. The rhythm feels a bit staccato, i wondered about exploring a second draft and thinking of the form of a love poem so that there is that kind of juxtaposition of form and outcome…
Interesting thought, Fiona.