“on darkest night, the delight“
new moon, no shadows
empathy tips, emptied gallows
dance in to the light
when there is none
rejoice in revelries
within this darkest night
and a fool’s cap let luminary rent
a jester’s smile, rapt with content
or even captured, guile of ill intent,
tip the toe on a razor’s blade
the slightest touch, the nimble cut
on the turn, bloody serenade
all in this performed in taste,
all the players a macabre play
in these, these hours
between and hidden, from the very saint of day,
a lover’s glance, brush of cheeks
sneak a kiss or steeling grief,
embraced, entwined
vines wrapped in blooms like braids
silken hair so fine and frayed
across strands lays to the shore
in tides, moor to the harbor
for the night is yet young
and the dance macabre, under new moon
has just begun, to spin
to spin a yarn, to thread the needle
seduction the seamstress
weave connect, bring two people
as sirens out on the open seas
for better a lure to trap a heart
dashing, upon these hidden rocks
shall wreck upon and apart
gladly takes upon the dance
in this land without a moon
sinking ships blithely find their doom.
notes… I might revisit this one, I write off the cuff but I think I can smooth out some of the rhythm here…. but overall I was happy with the way it spat out of my big dumb maw so I posted it anyway as is. I don’t torture myself over my work, it ‘happens’ and maybe it isn’t sparkling perfection, I’m just not that guy and have not been for some time now, there are some double meanings in there and about, catch them all ?
and as always, thoughts, prayers, comments, likes, diatribes, and pot pie recipes are always appreciated…
Music ? to go with this… yeah, I got that (scrambles to the back of the shop, you hear rustling, pots and pans crashing, screaming in some foreign language, some TV or Radio blaring)… and then shuffling hurried feet back toward the front…
Shades of My Garden 