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Post by burk28 on Jun 17, 2009 14:43:56 GMT -5
You come to me in cotton shoes, Wind blown clouds, Ocean blues.
Speaking of unspoken truths Tilted slant In telephone booth.
Numbers scratched, In aluminum, Cryptic notes from someone.
Poetic effigies, In little red houses, For you and me.
A ring, ring, A ring a ding ding, Ringing, singing, to me.
Such the numbers, The words display, Standing in this booth today.
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Post by graesonbelinda on Jun 17, 2009 21:12:22 GMT -5
What a unique way to picture this phone booth in poetic verse. Very creative topic indeed. Belinda
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Post by burk28 on Jun 17, 2009 23:11:31 GMT -5
LOL:) thanks belinda
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Post by graesonbelinda on Jun 18, 2009 9:28:20 GMT -5
You are welcome. My daughter is graegrae33, I will have her read it. She is young, she doesn't even probably really know what a true phone booth is. LOL
Belinda
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Post by burk28 on Jun 18, 2009 12:04:03 GMT -5
That might be true, they pretty much have gone by the wayside so to speak...
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Post by graesonbelinda on Jun 18, 2009 22:36:03 GMT -5
They sure have. The only phones you see are mounted to a steel pole with alittle cover over top of it. What a shame!!!! Belinda
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Post by Antipodi on Jun 19, 2009 6:05:09 GMT -5
Look up in the sky its a bird its a plane no its a a a phonebooth ...sorry just had ta say it ...wonderful write dear poet ...i too have fond memories of phone booths wrote my first schoolboy Graffiti in one....
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Post by burk28 on Jun 19, 2009 17:44:10 GMT -5
Hi antipodi, thanks Bill
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Post by reasonrhymer on Jul 9, 2009 23:29:27 GMT -5
Bill,
I just saw this, this had a nice ringy, dingy, ding to it.
I liked it and could envision the phone booth clearly, nicely done.
George
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Post by Belinda on Jul 10, 2009 22:29:43 GMT -5
Stuart,
You wrote graffitti in a phonebooth--shame shame shame--ME TOO!!! LOL
Belinda
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