Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204.
It's too far in the afternoon, I thought
but evening ran behind me
dragons, demons, and the sleeping world;
afraid to turn, to wake me.
Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts.
It's too far in the afternoon, I thought
but evening followed close;
a fantasy of goodness, where the gold
is always covering bones.
Power needs its fairy tales, its witches.
It's too far in the afternoon, I thought
but evening treads my hem,
like an army from the dragon's teeth
and all the lies therein.
-- Chrissa
“evening treads my hem”
ReplyDeleteGorgeous.
Effective building of atmosphere through repetition.
ReplyDelete"Power needs its horror stories." So true. I love the repeated line. This poem really works. I love it.
ReplyDeleteI love every line and the thoughts they stir, but that last stanza is brilliant! I love this Chrissa!
ReplyDeleteWonderful poem chrissa! Really nice! xo
ReplyDeleteNeatly done, Chrissa. I like it.
ReplyDelete"a fantasy of goodness, where the gold
ReplyDeleteis always covering bones" - excellent!
Wonderful!!
ReplyDeletePower craves its needs. Indeed
ReplyDeleteA happy and blessed Sunday. Thank you for dropping by my blog today
Much🌻love
Wonderfully constructed, a tale in a tail of golden yellow.
ReplyDeleteLove this, the rhythm with the repetition and rhyme. And ' evening treads my hem ' - wonderful.
ReplyDeleteChrissa, this is a gorgeous poem, a pleasure to read, to mull over ..... mull over.
ReplyDelete"Power needs its fairy tales, its witches."
ReplyDeleteThis is so true, Chrissa!
A beautiful poem...
Sincerely,
David [ben Alexander]
http://skepticskaddish.com/
Like a bad dream in the intoxicated world of vaccination. Mrs. Jim should be "cured" tomorrow, Saturday for me. Wish I could remember dreams. I liked your "dragon's teeth " usage. Double reasons, the poem and a dragon society that I snoop on in Facebook.
ReplyDelete..