Long Sentence

I don't do poems. Not at all. I'm just not creative in that way. This began as an assignment for a long (6 line minimum) sentence, and morphed into a modern poem. It is one of my favorite pieces, and most definitely my favorite poem (since I usually suck at them.) Once again, feel free to critique it.

Long Sentence

She went around the room
where she had spent
so many happy years
in her childhood;

she turned
and looked
at the spring green Victorian
slipper chair,
the mahogany
nightstand with the golden
lamp with roses
etched on it
and a stumbling profusion
of books and papers and pens

the bed with the light blue
sheets that were so soft
and the pink, green, and yellow
afghan
on top of the soft blue sheets
(it was the afghan
that her grandmother
had crocheted
for her eighth birthday),

the writing desk
with the fascinating combination
of different sized drawers
where she had often
sat and admired
the desk,
too afraid
of ruining it
to actually use it


addendum:
okay, I give up. I have cut and pasted the poem about five times, and even typed the whole thing in trying to get this blog thing to allow the structure of the poem. It won't. It refuses. So there is an actual modern structure to this poem that you can't see, but its there. Know that, and be kind. It gives it aesthetic appeal that I think the poem probably needs. And if anyone can tell me how to do it so that you can have everything line up where you want it to, and not just centered, or on the left, or on the right, please tell me, because its driving me nuts.