The Deliverance
O'er fields strewn with harvested evergreens,
There ventured a marine from Queens,
His flesh were a slight inky, his clothing was ragged,
No more alive, flowing in dread and haggard.
All around him darkness loomed quite blue,
Once a fair surround, radiant and imbue,
In the light he walked there, shadowed by fear,
But tragic winds did jinx his heart severe.
Then wondering thro' rain and stormy clouds,
Opaque in brittle hues, ghostly in shrouds,
With white shades of bubbling horror his evermore,
A mere ripple in earth's waters he'd deplore.
Onwards thro' the crushing storm he trekked,
The landscape ahead was defiantly suspect,
Its dour horizon presented a challenge to survey,
Where the sounds of thunder it rapt his day.
In raucous rumbles the marine heard the sky,
As frightening, with spawns of black fly,
Memorialized in his sleep, to haunt him evermore,
Then have brews of mystique he'd explore.
And a bejewelled goose would decorate his path,
There draped in quaint linen it felt his wrath,
Murmuring quietly the water bird flew into the light,
As bright as the sun, in some alluring plight.
To dream of despair, tenebrous in its imagery,
Hypnotic, muttering of death and infinity,
There with the wink of an eye he let the sunshine in,
His mother then smiled at her miracle kin.
She'd been there all along thro' his tribulation,
That struggle of low bumps and amputation,
Rosemary oil bid him comfort there as he woke,
From a coma it were, but horrors did evoke.
Down the pallid rush of melancholy misfortune,
A marine was reunited with life all impromptu,
His will to live it were strong after what he'd seen,
So two bungalows he obtained from a queen.
Copyright © Charles Bernabi | Year Posted 2016
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