Away, A Reverie!!

A splinter dawn, her picture frame,
Wood reaps this sin to her mist…
The blister for the manning soul’s adage,
Asleep, I’d drink her enchanted kiss…

Swaying winds to her benighted prism,
Lunacy adores her barb that slays…
Forsaken asleep, this fragile prison,
For agony, in her bruise I’d lay…

Mellow sinks this vein in wine,
This spell slits this breath apart…
Her hair recites fate in mimes,
Faith lost to her bristle heart …

In entrapment, she’d lay beside,
Her nails clutched this skin in vibes…
The broth washed the lust aside,
Her chanting wept pain in rhymes…

The Roslyn sang on its bow alone,
Her notes played my sorrow tone…
The jury shivers to a king dethroned,
The opera played as her weep adored…

Her curtains tied and this play was staged,
That song she sang to this night estranged…
The actor bows down to a blizzard’s rage,
And sleep, she’d lay in my winter haze…

The Winter Stray Poem...!!

The street wept the winter’s lust,
The wind blew its charm…
She lay cold on her bed of dust,
A needle lost deep in her palm…

The slum sang a hymn for the poor,
The bread lay sour on the rack…
She fled to grab a bite in a roar,
The stew there fed the rats…

Sleep broke to a dream of hope,
She watched herself laugh in glee…
The dew wept as the blossom spoke,
And the tulip began to flee…

Awoken by the traffic rhyme,
She sensed a pained day ahead…
Dwelling to a hoodlum’s mime,
The last bug sewed her bed…

The sidewalk relished the scent,
A child lay hungry in a fix…
She found the last of the cent,
A loaf just an inch thick…

Supper now a myth for the day,
She sat beside the child curved…
Watching the winter sleep away,
The troops found the shallow road…

The child lay still, awaiting breath,
She felt a shimmer down the nerve…
There it lay on the soil of death,
She watched its soul beside her lurk…

Wrapped in the morning news,
She picked the child in despair…
As the paper rusted the rue,
She cursed fate that was unfair…

The road was steep in static,
The winter stung her skin cold…
The leaves flung to words of manic,
The flu wept to a miser’s urge…

She reached torn, that bitter land,
The clay that yearned the parted…
Anger filled, she sunk her hands,
On that frozen clay broken hearted…

She scratched the soil to dig away,
Her nails clicked and bled…
The child lay judged beside her stray,
To a jury called life and death…

The grave was dug in a circle,
Her fingers bled to the moment’s wrath…
She took the child and began a murmur,
The last rhyme for the departed past…

As she kissed it, filled with tears,
She bid farewell and sunk it deep…
There it lay numb in fear,
She buried the stolen seed…

As the snow kissed the grave,
Her sight faded and the blood went stale…
The last of her breath gave away,
And here’s a tale of a winter stray….