Peace in Her Storm

Kenneth, loves satire and writings to spotlight others, but he also has an "addiction" so to speak, to dramatic and abstract/prose poetry.

Endless dreamed schemes and useless paper scenes

Will adorn these dark, lonesome, ivy hall.

Talking alone from perched a liar of moonbeams

Laughing with himself--having a solo's ball.

Flying with wishful wings

Of spider's few and wizard's rings.

She begged during hysterical screams

Laughing at him in her dark prisoned dreams.

Every thing in a line crying to walls of darkness mine

Wind ne'er howls and criminal knows she's thine.

Her teams of harmonies lifted winged angels sigh

Whispering to fairness shy--why live? Why die?

Door ajar and crickets not far

Taking a crumb creepily sneaks away.

An endless moaning, flimsy railing

Telling of birth and shudders failing.

She grasps a rusty nail latch

Spies a spider's egg to muffle hatch.

A poison she never had to match

Storm cellar, sod of land, roof of thatch.

Golden hierarchy of angels sing in perfect tone

Ringing 'round those perfect bones.

Smiling secretly--chasing vague promises

Embraces lost lover she faces.

Lace, space, and eyelash renewed

Silken guilt a vow reheld.

Her hands ne'er trembled in the dew

Now she's born once . . .

Lived in truth . . .

Giving herself to Eternity.

The Inside Text . . .

"A troubled soul, a properly-raised young princess,

but never knew her true place in life. That was until . . .a beggar man with lifted pride sat down, took her eyes for his, and shared the words above. The words of comfort that only he knew."

© 2018 Kenneth Avery