Excerpt from PotPP

Outside our town there was a glade
where coats of comely mallow swayed.
Their beauty made the billows weep
and caused blithe bumblebees to leap
upon those vivid violet thrones
to gather dusty yellow stones.
The wooers chose that pretty place
to slyly bask in joy’s embrace.
Each morning at the stroke of nine
they hurried past the prickly pine
to wallow in warm waiting arms
and revel in each other’s charms.

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“Plight of the Peevish Peddler” is a 2,360 word narrative poem, written in iambic tetrameter that I wrote about a year and a half ago.  This excerpt is from the poem’s second section.

 

Public Bath

Beneath high heaven’s beryl veil
my skin was soft and very pale
and as the ocean grazed my toes
it washed away my petty woes.
But, when he saw me floating there,
clothed only in my golden hair,
I dashed to don this cotton frock
which sat upon a distant rock,
then scolded him with fiery wrath
for spying on my morning bath!

Facebook Ghost

This morning close to six past eight
I placed a bagel on my plate,
then opened up my Facebook page
to see what news was all the rage.

Kate Leary had a baby boy;
she barely can contain her joy.

The selfie squad was here of course;
that gal by Ann looks like a horse!

My social justice friend is back;
for starting fights he has a knack.

It seems that Susie’s Grandma died.
I read her post and nearly cried.

Joe’s breakfast bowl looks so delish,
I wonder if that’s meat or fish?

Naomi’s pics are always great;
that’s all she posts at any rate.

Last night Sebastian got quite drunk
in his own words, drunk as a skunk.

Tom’s sister did a 5K run;
I gather it was lots of fun.

Jill’s birthday party is tonight
the theme this year is Rainbow Bright.

I comb my fingers through my hair
and try to think of things to share.
But on this windy autumn day
I just don’t have that much to say.

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*edited after initial posting

Hunger

In this moment of perfect pain,
tears wash away within the rain.
And as frail feet meander home
wet worlds descend from heaven’s dome,
soaking skin in salty splashes,
driving me on with lusty lashes.
As night approaches, fear sets in
then grim visions begin to spin.
Do demons linger by the fire?
plotting to place me on their pyre?
My feet tarry at this divide;
pupils careen from side to side.
A critical choice must be made
no one will come to offer aid!
This way?  That way?  How do I pick?
Silent clocks tick loudly, quick! quick!

I shall follow this unknown lane,
in hopes that I might live again.