Poem: The False Widow

The dawn it screams in anger

How can it now be true?

How can the hope that dangled

Briefly

Be sewn with weeds anew?

 

The False Widow smiles insanely

Her web is woven tight

The Puppet Master dances

Madly

Until there is no fight

 

The morning conjures bleakly

How quickly life can change

They measured their options

Clearly

Behind the kitchen range

 

The False Widow smiles insanely

Her web is woven tight

The Puppet Master dances

Madly

Until there is no fight

 

The noontime sun advances

Their motives are quite clear

The marionette now stands

Sadly

Looking beyond the frozen sphere

 

The False Widow smiles insanely

Her web is woven tight

The Puppet Master dances

Madly

Until there is no fight

 

So evening calls more quietly

A vague hope it still clings

Touching love and life

Sincerely

And cutting webs and strings

 

The False Widow smiles insanely

Her web is woven tight

The Puppet Master dances

Madly

Until there is no fight

 

So dust the broom in moonlight

Keep it clean and new

The way ahead still lies

Clearly

Until morning’s early dew

 

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Author: seagullnic

Writer, editor, lecturer and part-time musician. Passions in life: my family, Bob Dylan, music of many genres, Brighton and Hove Albion FC, cooking plus good food and wine.

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