PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I am here, retaining this;

pertaining to the local labors.

Glossing dish to gloss-ed tins

and beakers caked with snort, imported

by the local duchess in

a fit of disproportionate despair.

Her loyalty speak none of it

and pad her cotton felt. When they

could not bear to lay her witness,

they were sent across the way.

With her brim and frilly woe in casket,

she’ll not fidget for too long. Not since

the things that came to bed her

lay across her nostrils in the grave.