Hi Sally,
Thanks.
Perhaps I'm trying to transfer the person's feelings into what he sees of 
other people.
But taking chocolates AND wine might be a bit too much... (grin!)
Bob


>From: Sally James <[log in to unmask]>
>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>To: [log in to unmask]
>Subject: Re: What I Want
>Date: Sat, 30 Sep 2006 10:23:44 +0100
>
>Bob, For me I really love this. I like the observations you have made of 
>people and the close detail of their characters and how you would like them 
>to be. I like the seductive end too. Nothing to crit. A good poem for me. 
>Best wishes Sally J
>
>
>>From: Bob Cooper <[log in to unmask]>
>>Reply-To: The Pennine Poetry Works <[log in to unmask]>
>>To: [log in to unmask]
>>Subject: What I Want
>>Date: Fri, 29 Sep 2006 15:10:55 +0000
>>
>>All comments welcome:
>>(The indented lines are supposed to start immediately below where the 
>>previous line ends! They do on my screen - I hope they do in yours!)
>>
>>
>>What I Want
>>
>>I want this to be a city where men in overalls sat outside cafes
>>slide their sunglasses up to their hair, wrinkle their noses
>>when sipping beer, then close their eyes after licking their lips,
>>sigh a smile like in an advert and say, Aaaaah.
>>                                                              I want this 
>>to be the place
>>where, on a quiet tram, the child in a sunhat, a dummy round her neck,
>>sits contented in a buggy never letting go of the small fluffy bear
>>while she stares at my stare, feeling OK with what she sees.
>>
>>I want this tram stop to be where expectations gather with people
>>as, getting on and getting off, they sidle gracefully past each other,
>>I want others to cruise past slowly in cars.
>>                                                          I want this 
>>dusty street corner
>>to be where ex-lovers meet with surprise, pleasure in their faces,
>>and after a brief peck on the cheek, they talk of the goodness
>>they feel belongs with them now as light glows in the sky.
>>
>>I want this to be the street where, through an open window
>>too high to see into, faint saxophone riffs drift downwards
>>while quiet dogs who move their ears are walked past
>>as their owners talk to themselves.
>>                                                I want this doorstep to be
>>the moment I rise ever so slowly before I walk in, kick off my shoes,
>>as you grin your imperfect English over my chocolates, bottle of wine,
>>their heaviness weighed in your hand as I walk where you lead.
>>
>>Bob Cooper