Please read my first poetry interview.  I hope you all enjoy and get to know Laura a bit better!
http://poetrybybarrymowles.wordpress.com/meet-the-poets-interviews/

Lulu the Prostitute

I am Lulu a prostitute who lived in the 1800’s

Velvet and pearls were worn upon skin

Flowing like rivers draping down around

Pressing my fingers and touching my curves

Fullness of breast explode with life

Gentlemen flock my parlor waiting for hours

Kissing each one, I give a wink

For they know what waits

I greet each with passion and longing of long lost lover

There is a bulge before I even touch

A mistress of manipulation!

Walking proud with my head held up high

An ornate bonnet propped proudly upon head

There is a mansion high on the hill calling my own

When I am prowling in town, women scorn me

Giving them a smile, the eyes telling them your man is mine!

There is barely an education that surrounds me

Well not the kind we find in a one room school house

My degree is the highest earned

Teaching men a trick or two gasping for breath

An ornate jeweled pen tells of tale

Jotting down name of lovers

Again, a smile comes to lips

A longing in my lady wear vibrates with life

Yes, I am a prostitute

Victorian promiscuous beauty

Promises of ecstasy will fill your heart, drowning all sorrow

Skin as smooth as silk bathed in perfume

As I think of you tonight!

My History Lesson

Looking back on life was the hardest thing to do

Battles had to be fought leaving soldiers to die

Even the greatest generals drown in their own water

As a child, preparation for battle was always there

They were many scars throughout time

An alliance was contracted so many moons ago

History would never repeat, not in my existence

Did the soul go on auction?

Just the opposite!

Holding tight, never giving up

The mirror held all my dirty deep secrets

Daily rituals were held

Yes, there were sights reflected back that no man should see

Holding down the beauty was the hardest lesson taught

“If I could be more like daddy,” became my mantra

The day arrived when I did become my father

It was the deepest abyss one could climb out of

If I could re-write history!

Well I did!

Marks still remain, except they are kept deep in my pockets

I pull them from my skin and lock them away

Do they still exist?

Sure they do!

Refusing to have history show its dirty face

I would do it all again

The suffering, crying, screaming

History will not repeat itself

I fought hard for my child to never fight in a war

History has been re-written……………

The rest is, well lets’ just wait and see

My Dream of Copenhagen

Sun glinting through century old scrolled iron

My breath was robbed in the most beautiful way

Gazing at a world I know nothing about

Castles and canals come together for a captivating walk

Tivoli, a fairytale starting the moment you leave outside world

Darkness envelopes and Tivoli begins its charm

Step into enchanting universe with romance neighboring every corner

Sporting a copper roof and bounded by moats, Rosenborg Castle

Living within, “The Royal Jewels”

Cinderella, do you live there too!

I cannot tell if I am sleeping or awake

Casting the window open as my eyes seek a feast

Abodes of old making me weep

Oh the stories they could tell

I am ready as you open your doors, turning each page

Canals of Venice are shallow in compare

Colors transporting me to another dimension

It is time to leave and I can’t bear the thought!

Again, I am transfix one more time

The colors, flowers and history

Traveling with Hans Christian Anderson

Even hummed the familiar tune

Copenhagen let the magic begin!

The alarm clock screamed as I was rudely propelled

It was a dream, but I know different

Can you keep a secret……………..

Once upon a time there was Copenhagen

Love of Lilac’s

Warm breeze dancing through window, transports intoxicating perfume

Delicately, but impatiently, coverlet imitates beautiful waterfall

Window is brusquely thrown open engulfing e morning’s beauty

Purple and blue stars forming spectacular view

My hands start to shake as tears fall

Bring perfume to my boudoir, or bask in its beauty?

Crystal vase beckons its call

Sun hugging vase, absorbing and housing its rays

The view is spectacular

Rainbow lights bringing room new life

I can envision fairies dancing on bent light rays

My love of the lilac can no longer wait 

Crazy head tells me to ask

Can I cut your arm?

I will not hurt you as promises are heard

The little girl would cry, chopping your life away

Suddenly tiny petals fall to feet

The new morning is here

Beautiful window to outside world sleeps

Yet, perfume is so strong it wakes me from slumber

Crystal vase housing clusters of lilac greets me

I am engulfed with beauty, grateful for sharing