There was a crooked man
who walked a crooked mile
to wag a crooked finger
at the moon’s crooked smile.
“Don’t laugh at me,”
he warned,
dejected and forlorn,
feeling quite abused,
angry and confused.
“So you’ve come to
me at last,
like a ghost from
out the past.
Is it recompense you seek,
if so why don’t you speak?”
(her crooked smile did not waver)
The crooked little man
took a crooked step
along the crooked walk,
he took a ragged breath
and then began to talk.
“You made me what I am,
you wicked, lusty dame.
Wandering this lonely path
until my legs are lame.
For what you promised,
yes you know
beneath that sultry
silver glow,
that love was true and
free for taking.
Thus I have spent a lifetime
making
love, and hope
and wicked ties
only to find it
all was lies.
I believed but
was deceived
you careless liar,
fueling fire
to burn men’s souls.”
Her majesty just grinned,
“My dear tho you have sinned,
’twas through no fault of mine,
nor the starlit night divine.
Each gem that fell into your hands
was swallowed by the shifting sands
of your deceit,
pressed into dust
from hungry lust
and blown away
at end of play.
Angels all, and at your call
You bruised and used and left them all!”
The crooked little man
dropped his head into his hands
and weeping bitter tears,
bemoaned the wasted years;
but she who knows not guilt or shame
felt no remorse for placing blame
upon the head
of he who shed
the tears that bled
his soul away.
(her crooked smile was wistful)
“Go back into the mists
and shake your crooked fists
at he who lives within the glass
and looks at you from out the past.
As dust to dust
return you must,
and thus reborn
you shall be sworn
to retribution,
love’s solution
lies in the hands of
he who understands
the turning of the tides
and that no one can hide
from she who holds the key
to bright eternity!
Cheryl KP 2018
Copyright Photo and words
