In the Meadow
The Devil's Hold
Into the devils hands you placed my infant form
with blind eyes and untutored minds you left.
The caterwauls of baby rang like an eerie storm
for the eve's respite you sought was paid a high tariff.
Memory, so kind and long gone, without redress
lays in ashes buried in the wavering wash of time
But, decades of snickering comments coalesce
making the adult children wonder at their crime.
Marred, scarred, scared and one too many times undressed
the ramming cat, the rutting dog, pointed allusions
The negligence of youthful parents never confessed
leaves Magdalene's curse, a cost not of your choosing.
Raise the tarry brush of hell and paint their damned souls,
far too many have fell within the Devil's hold.
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