Home > Creative Writing > Poetry
Created on: December 03, 2008 Last Updated: May 02, 2009
A poem about a very young German girl, experiencing changes in the age of development.
Oh Fraska, from rural land near valley
of the Rhine ye be where
thine birth came but six minus
the score years ago
Fraska, youth be in thine body
of female emergent
as by domination of temperament
mounds on ye torso
rupture in shape of bells
to loudly resonate female glory
in eyes of all that be of appreciation
Locks a bullion straw grow
repudiating nest of thine sexuality
sacred guardian of entrance to
fertility in thine womb
Fraska, country lass of nature
as beauty like maidens of Rhine
so long ago and myth
be ye in thine radiance of energy
transporting through trees and hills
covered of soft ground under bare feet
whilst tresses of gold descend upon
ye who be nude as if robe of angels
Fraska, so much to discover
of world around thou explores
about yet novelty be
above else in ye imagination
strokes upon thine
moist precious of roses
in fantasy of night as
animal growl leave ye
oh, in desperate delight
Fraska, bold with youth be ye
in recklessness of age though
fear ye storms of thine sexuality's
creation in those of converse gender
for it be averse to ye so tender
Fraska, be it rage in root of male
or effects on thee but dread be thine
to cherish whilst ye wards off
lust of thee for what at last awaits
ye garden of femininity
Fraska, oh beauty of black forest
yet thine years serve thee
for in there lack
time thou has for all
Learn more about this author, Gianni Truvianni.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.
Below are the top articles rated and ranked by Helium members on:
Poetry: Daddy's little girl
by J Meckes
My Girl
She had blue eyes, blonde hair and a curl
and ruled the roost. . . .Daddy's Little Girl.
The moment I saw her I knew
by C F Tinney
The Symphony of Youth
What's on your mind, my little one?
You are still, but not for long.
You pause, but for a moment,
to catch
by Vhergo
For Daddies and Their Little girls
when you look at your little girl
do you remember how much you loved your mom
and how she
A hand to hold.
A heart of gold.
Skipping beside him.
Loving to be with him.
Proud of his little joy.
Buying her favorite toy.
Watching
by Jane Healy
Mostly in her first four years,
She relied upon her Mum.
But now she’s five
And so alive,
The ‘Daddy days’
View All Articles on: Poetry: Daddy's little girl