The Palace
In a world less ordinary
would the stars still shine,
milk and honey drip from the vine?
would clouds appear and drift on by,
give break to azure from the sky?
Would sea spray ruffle linen dress,
send children reeling, soaking wet,
let lovers kiss and holding hands,
touch their hearts and see the land.
This old and ordinary place
a palace grand
a special grace.
The stars of men
they do not shine
those pale reflections
lost with time.
All the acts that men can do
need night to cover, the sooty hue
even night cannot erase
the peal of siren
copper chase.
Villains Hyde like,
Jekyll's heirs
lounge in leather
easy chairs
Stroking salve into their wounds
make up artists
paint cartoons
faces plastered, stretched,
pulled back
mask the fissures
time did track
like rows for seeds
love and care
iced over smooth
no growth is theirs
What eternal patience waits
to trap the mice
from out this place
to sweep the dust from under rug
release the waters
bring back the flood
to wash it clean
this palace floor
refit for life
and love
and more.
Copyright © Robert Rekab | Year Posted 2014
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