Sylvia
She protruded from a background well-versed in mythology
Riddled in metaphors
Steeped in false parameters
Yet gifted in iambic pentametre
She coughed a bloodied bee onto her lap
and let the sparks fly.
She married a beekeeper in two syllables
And bit her tongue
Whilst the lines absolved her dichotomy of life
She tripped over her song's rhyme
She whistled a white-hole onto the page
And dropped herself inside.
Her jar will always be half-empty, with complete thoughts.
Copyright © Matthew Ainscough | Year Posted 2008
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment