Contest: 2026/03/15 Write a Beautiful Shadorma
Sponsor: Constance La France
Through Author’s Lens: “Where the world groweth dark, the child yet keepeth the dawn.”
Cold winds stir
Silent dwellings wake
Small shoes wait
Pause again
Mothers scan dim firmament
Night draws ever near
Thin clouds drift
Vast heavens hold breath
Young eyes lift
Slowly now
Why cathedral bells recede
Birdsong breaks to hush
Pale dawn comes
Radiance parts mist
Bare trees speak
Low murmur
Children step into morning
Hope stands unappeased
QUASIMODO
Quasi modo geniti infantes,*
“Why was I not made of stone like thee,”
Up-far-up, he hugs the cold cathedral gargoyle.
Are there tears when they beat his humpback?
Do we care? Do we?
Sophistical** sophistication of the mob
both skint and silk-stocking.
Ill will surrounds the beauty and the beast, both misunderstood.
Mood of shadows, felicitous and suffering bells,
Orgasmic Frollo circling Esmeralda, blaming her for his
Depravity. “Sanctuary, Sanctuary,” the cry of the bell tower’s madman,
Oh but much saner than the world that the Lord looks upon.
7/18/2019
*Like a newborn
**Plausible but based upon deception
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