Terence Smith Poet Blank verse

The Babe

The Babe
A babe with golden eyes,
              dirty knotted hair,
                              with hunger for a belly,
                                          lies starving,
                                                      beneath a marble floor.
Above, amid a swirl of rich brocades,
              a blaze of purple and gold,
                            silver shoes, scarlet stockings, polished boots,
                                        dance in time to dulcet chamber melodies,
                                                        immortally composed by dying paupers.
They prance in festive abandon,
                a martial air's rhythm fills the crystal hall,
                              and the tears of tomorrow's children,
                                                are swallowed in the dust.

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Beata Agustin February 1, 2023 at 1:20 AM Thanks for sharing this... exposing your thoughts about a grim reality through your unique poetic style. Welcome to Poetry Soup. I welcome you with the love of the Lord, expressed by John 3:16 of the Bible, "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." God bless you.