Seeking Peace In Cold Gush
With downpour hued in starlit gray,
And fallen eyes are interlocked
In drizzles where the torrent bites
Till candles wane on fabric soiled
(As evening slips its frail chemise).
Her boudoir cluttered by the wind,
Sighing a pitter-patter scream
(Old woman dwells on passing sprees)
And on a chair, her drooped spine curves,
(To track hazed lifetime’s reveries);
Receding off so constantly.
Heels tip tap rhythm on the floor;
Alone, betrothed to lonely sheets
(Entrusting stars for pain’s release).
How cold the gush in Summer's flight.
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For Craig Cornish’s Intermingle Contest
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Inspired by poems” How Cold The Gush"-- 5/25/2013
and “ Seeking Evening's Peace-- 11/17/2013
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by nette onclaud
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2015
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