Darkness Grows In the Garden of Pleasantries
DARKNESS GROWS IN THE GARDEN OF PLEASANTRIES
Meandering through the garden of pleasantries,
did you sense, the breathless pant of trees,
or hear, the violin seduction, of Cupid’s sentries,
or pierce the eyes, the blossom spread of luxuries?
Do tell of sandals, chains and locks lost in shrubberies!
O turtle doves, between your teeth, insolent mulberries.
Too soon succumbed to satin skin, fracas of discoveries.
The fruited-fountain of chocolate but noncommittal fudgeries.*
The shrieking tomb of sirens — seagulls sic the maggoty melodies.
The butterfly tresses of yesteryear sans curmudgeon cure of drudgeries.
You thought to toss away her sensuous beauty, with exorbitant lies.
No hope in her sea soaked eyes, salt preservative of glass flies.
4/14/2018
*fudgeries - fakes (made up word)
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