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8/6/2019 And Then There Was None All
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And then there was none
By Giv-O-lee
Once upon a time
In a land far awaythere lived a young maiden
of no name and no prey.
Her fingers where blessedand she marveled in clay:
oh all sorts of trinketsthat twinkled and played.
The people where owed
but her eyes always ailedover miss perfect details
and crook-ed display.
A prince came alongand swept her away,
to master her craft,and for him to obey.
Oh lady of clay
Alone in her tower,young maiden of neigh
inspected her potsin an air of dismay.
For what if he tells her,
and what if he sees,how poor are the curves,
how dump are the seeds?
Oh lady of sleaze
Her pots where all evenand yet she had told
her inner critics
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so harsh and so bold:Forgive me my cracks
and my inner turmoilI promise Ill toile
and amend and recoil!
She did nothing elseand her spirits where falling
from brushing and smoothingand boiling and toiling.
The sparks started twiddling
the twinkles collapsedshe tried to maintain them
but couldnt, alas
Belief started fading
she couldnt pretend,
how soar was her throathow full of disdain.
Oh lady of pain
For once in a whilethe prince would appear,
demanding her presenceand drawing her near.
She brewed him some broth
did that wear off her charm?Or was it her pots, or where there her arms?
a blink of an eye, a tilt of the head?That drove him away, and left her a dead?
The tower grew cold and grey and abandoned
She could not resist the voices below.
Unwittingly giddy she followed him through
in a last frightful effort to seek and bestowhis old charming presence and promises too
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And than there was none.No light and no sound.
The lady had fallen from grace.She laid there for ever
in fear of admittinghow far was the fall
how high and how tall
The lady of so many wishes
*Crowns picking eyes
tagging, bragging, digging, rigginggown, hair, thighs, cheeks
warmth, breath, heart, bit,cranking, braking, bruising, shaking
standing still
*
Blind slopes of grounda curve
a mound
where crowns prefer to sit,would stay untouched
unproved, unmatchedunloved, un-launched
uneven
*From the cracks sprang the power to hunt
*Slowly did the huntress came
and touched
the mound of ground unbound
she waved the birdsand hunched
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she pushed her handsall through the ground
and whispered
ahh
the sound of whichhad sprang
the earth,the sun,
the warmth below,
the one
one eyed, one way, one namedfor whom the power to give birth
to sparks of thousand worlds.
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