The Jester’s Bride

Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls about.

Lost within the leafy maze

unsure whether those statues are moving

or if it is shadows playing tricks?

I can hear the baying of the hounds

and wonder, can they be for me?

I escaped from the prison of my mind

fighting my way back

from the depths of the madness

only to discover that there is no way out.

I whirl around, fear tangent in the air

my breath comes in brisk gasps

fear reaching out with blackened limbs

ready to encircle,

to entwine,

to capture me and pull me back.

Twisting and turning, the garden path swirls

and the Jester roars.

His laughter savage

as I am pinned,

beneath his silvered gaze.

There will be no freedom,

no relief

only a soul mired in anguish

the Jester’s bride,

captured and maddened,

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Nov. 29/17