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  • Unquent

    Caribbean cruise without strife;
    Work on serenity’s altar.
    Tranquility used as your coal,
    A rainbow your priest’s radiant stole.

    A balm, unguent, salve for the soul;
    A wondrously azure atoll.
    Sand without potable water;
    A shoal without life giving life.

    Bite deep cruel knife
    As I give you this auger.

    Youth’s might your work perhaps stole
    Always so terribly droll…
    Without work there’d be no midlife;
    No midwife--crisis averted.

  • #2
    Nice to see your name in the queue Merkavah ! Your opening phrases surely have a soothing effect. The turn, with the couplet in the third stanza, threw me a bit. You seem to make peace in the closing line. The whole piece reads as part of a journey.

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    • #3
      Nice to see you posting Merkavah.

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      • #4
        It's somewhat about a journey but more about the potential lack thereof completely... And the closing line is a kind of peace, I suppose?

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