a dance with Mad Molly -
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'whatcha say we spin a jig?' she said from 'neath my tongue
her almond bittersweet the queried tang ...
so naught but few, the moments 'til my belfry's bell was rung
and thus with such euphoric, sexy clang
"do the worst and mock, you beast!" I bellowed at the moon
now feeling quite as tho' I ruled the world ...
for I, Mad Molly's mournful feast, would feign her lover soon
and off this craggy ledge, be gently hurled
the surfy sirens, leagues below, were pounding with my guilt
and screaming that my sacrifice should be
Mad Molly's choice and reckoning, for her's the heart 'twas jilt
her tempers raging stronger than the sea
but she had promised me a dance, and I would not be spurned
thus twirling 'top those ledges like a fool ...
my arms and legs akimbo while I tossed and jigged and turned
so soaking in the moon's pearlescent drool
I danced with crazed abandon, as Mad Molly laughed and cried
each dark regret and demon bleeding free ...
I couldn't blame her anymore, for how I'd sinned and lied
'twas time those hells be given to the sea ...
"I hate you through, but love you more, Mad Molly," I'd begun
the surging surf below, did plead and roil ...
"please, kiss me deep now, Molly, for our time on earth is done!"
then off we waltzed ... into the mortal coil.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Strand Select 9, Any Form, Any Theme" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2019
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