THE MONGOOSE
In her ebon
tower through panes of quartz
The mirthless
beauty gazed down
And sought the one who’d come to court
To win her
radiant crown.
Lachrymose beads
escaped her eyes
To pool on
the marble floor;
No fish’s belly nor fox’s den
Held him who
she so wept for.
Many a head
had been sawed from its neck
In attempt
to win her hand,
Though not
for them did the lady grieve
But for thought
she’d not outwit this man.
Ne’er could
she know in her pearly hair
Had a mongoose
made its nest;
And here was
the one, transformed by a spell
Who soon
would her cunning best.
Weep, for
the sorcery works strange ways;
A door moves
both in and out.
When one may
think his fate is won,
The seed of
another sprouts.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_XFA4jLKVhkoc7GhcIM64Xfj3i7Dc81ehoSB_9FjCT5KWWLipwxUS5aumuCMujIhGag_E_hhueJB86ADZHIBaZJQ7Vz1l9Ky1YNaalCHY1tRhlvbMhm-45A05yu7uSpoHSsDkoEKCsDOT/s1600/freshwater-pearl-hair-pin.jpg
No comments:
Post a Comment