La Galeria de GymArt

PoeticGymArt by Jim Nasium

just so ya know for sure...
These poem are about you Joanne...

More Red Hair

She had more red hair everywhere
Than ever before I have seen
Her milky white skin in the sun light
A site of beauty to be seen
By me and by me alone
Till the day she left our home
The Woman With Hair The Color Of Fire
Now she calls me from time to time
Ask how I am doing and If all is fine
Her voice stirs up memories deep in my mind
When ever I hear her voice in my ear
In some strange way she is really near

Yet it seems to me
That she will never again be
I call her The Woman With Hair Of Fire
She has more red hair everywhere
Than ever before I have seen...

1997 Jim Nasium Saldutti

A water color of Joanne that I did
Here's another poem for YOU Joanne

On Children

What am I gonna do,
she said,
he is so much like you...
he loves to play sports
and he has built tree forts
and he loves to draw
he remembers all that he saw
and he can be so good
like a little boy should
and he can be so bad
that makes me sad,
'cause then he reminds me the most...
she said, of you.

Well, after all, he is my son
thru his veins my blood runs
and who would have thought
that thirty minutes of sexual fun
would have given us both
so much joy...
He is in fact OUR Baby Boy!

1995 Jim Nasium

This is what YOU looked like to me Joanne
Hair, The Color of Fire...

Her hair is red
Redder than I have ever seen
Her eyes were beauitful, they were green
I only wish You could'a seen
How beauitful she is... gee wiz
Seems that her beauty is only skin deep
It's 'cause of her that I still weep
Ya see The Woman With Hair The Color Of Fire
Turned out to be a liar...

She took our son and ran away
I never will forget the day
When I came home from a day at work
Man did I feel like a jerk
The house was empty and she was gone
Yet I still see her at night
In my dreams, and I can hear her screams
As our son forced his way out'a her that day
I have to say... she was so cute
In her birthday suit
holding on to the handle as she gave birth

He is our son why did you have to run?
Do you think that when I write about you
It is fun? Or that my life is done?
Guess again my red head friend... guess again

1996 Jim Nasium
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