Abandoned Pearls
Grains of poetic sand streaming
down the long throat of broken
hourglasses in the hands of those
who suffer in malignant minds
craving magniloquent lives imbued by justice...
The moss colored legerdemain performs on the steps
of the conundrum outside the passageway
where tyrants roam the extensive hallways
in search of a consoling cappuccino
Peignoirs elect lazy ladies to dress scantily
while rising the occasional peccadillo in honor
of her Master’s lubricious wishes
counting His fingers one by one
People pray and genuflect paying homage
to plucking flowers in a dilemmatic state
I want a Savior, I don’t want a Savior
she secretly thinks, crouched in the abstract garden
Her iridescent hair flocks around her shoulders
like a delicate love shawl for the wild gypsy
with special powers to tame her raging spirit
like no drug, bibulous brew or lover’s kiss
Pearls in the harbor of her mellifluous sea
spending coins like an intoxicated assailant
at the edge of the river’s ministry
she pleads for misery to abandon her with celerity
Pleated minds with oneiric encounters ascend
before the onslaught of sanguinary hounds
spring forth with beguiling fangs
remembering yesterday’s feast
Tomorrow, it will appear as an apparition
emerging from the morning coffee’s steam
the miracle of surrendering to a wanton dream
this is no typical Tuesday...
~daria S. dawson
© 2005
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