Gardner’s Delight

Mistress Mary,
Quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells.
And Cockle Shells.
With Pretty Maids in a row.
That my kind sir
is how my garden does grow.
Reaver
Avenger
no one really knows
the role I play
the role I take;
my garden
well tended
blooms with wildflowers,
nightshade,
all that is good
and bad
in between.
We have been playing
game of cat and mouse
I lead,
you follow
soon dear
I shall reap.
Eyes shot through
hands tremor
saliva burned into the corner of your lip
bulbous nose
veined
whisky ridden
oily grey hair
sit
waiting
watching
no longer sure
how I will enter.
Slithering behind
last you heard
the
sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss
as my blade cleared its sheath
stabbing you straight through the eye
as you turned
and tried to fire.
Mistress Mary
Quite Contrary
How does your garden grow?
Will silver bells.
And cockle shells.
And all those dead men
set in a row.
©Nov. 8/22
Picture via Pinterest

Word of the Day Challenge #111-Untitled Poem

Tears
seeping
below the surface
grin
stylized upon my lips
eyes
darting
gazing dark khol enlarged
beauty
bought
sold
no thought given
no acknowledgement of wants
only
what will gain
what will follow
from bridal truth.
Bound
upon altar of matrimony
girl…..
to
woman of manor
terror
no help
all failed
to see beneath debonair couture
loathing
man no longer
monster made.
In garden bloom
black and red
roses of grandeur
forever fertilized
by manor born man
beast of husband
widowed so young
no one knows
the body lies
beneath tapping feet.
©August 23/20
Picture via Pinterest
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