Imagine Me #SoCS/#Poetry

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Imagine me

not what you see-

naked, shivering, withered tree

still donning bits of finery.

My skin gone rough and graying

and the ground beneath decaying

where my roots are firmly planted

as my spine grows bent and slanted.

 

Close your eyes…

try to recall,

the kiss of Fall

so sweet he made us blush

and feel the golden rush

of girlish delight!

 

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His nimble hands did thus caress,

so wild, untamed and wreckless

we danced, to light the sky!

‘What need for garments?’,

freedom urged

and thus, unfettered,

body purged

of wrappings,

those trappings

that tame the spirit,

fool the mind,

the eye…

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the passersby shook their heads

and grinned instead of

placing blame,

”Oh what a shame,”

was all they said.

Such loveliness once on the trees

lay now in shreds around their knees.

Brazen beauties!

 

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Remember me,

when thus you see

the gnarled skin-

what lies within

remains the same-

everlasting,

till Spring plants a kiss-

such bliss!

 

Then comes the blush,

yet now the hush

of naked truth

is cold and silent.

 

In Winter’s keep

doth does she sleep

with dancing dreams

of gold and green.

”Sweet May,”

yawns she,

“Imagine me.”

 

 

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CKP copyright words and images 2018

Today’s #SoCS post brought to you through The magic of Linda Hill’s blog.

Today’s word prompt was ma. Use it alone or as part of a word manipulation. Extra points for beginning your post with it.

Visit Linda’s place for more great posts and prompts. I hope you join the fun! Happy #Free48 everyone. If you are thirsty, stop in at the bar and strike up a conversation with Dan. He’ll tell you what’s good on the menu and share some humor. Maybe. If you buy him a beer. 😉

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Crooked/Poetry

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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