Mighty No More
Yet for a while, there side by side.
Her stature, stooped; he's standing tall.
Since time began, he and his bride
Upheld the realm, preserved it all.
His soul, his queen
Apart, ne'er seen.
Her end is near, eyes open wide.
He whispers dear; she hears the call.
They've shared the small; naught to confide.
Alone, bereft, awash in pall.
Scarlet, oaken
Sundered, broken
—————
For the Posie Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Emile Pinet
Written 06/01/2022
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2022
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