Autumn has taken leave of the dale
chimney smokes hangs in heavy air
long has she flirted the blessing of sleep
her companion the full phial, a trenchancy
Mother Bailey's Quieting Syrup the elixir
laudanum's pungency bites the nostrils
for the abuse, she wrestles with paranoia
innocently the picaro invaded her will
elusory moments, spasmodically she twitches
the phial consumed and there is welcoming
the master of suasion stitches a smile
upon the deeply lined creases of her face
in the throws of physical mirth she sighs
doubtless dreaming of a lattermath of poppies
mirrored images flash before her eyes
as she dances between reality
and the semiconscious euphoria of opium
sleep will be hers until the jerking and twitching
again call for her faithful friend in the phial
'til then she sleeps, for a short while
Regis
Edwin
Highly expressive and with such generous, well selected vocabulary and image. All abuse is a comfort of some sort, a crutch to help us along and while I'm aware of the consequences and that the damage to self and others can be terrible I see if not condone the need and want. A heroin addict (being interviewed on TV) once said, "When I'm there, it's like being wrapped from head to toe in cotton wool."
I must add to Gene's praise of you and your skill and courage to explore new territory. This is very fine indeed.
John
The writing here, as always, is rich in all the qualities that make
a great poem.
the master of suasion stitches a smile
I'm a sucker for good alliteration. -gene.
Love,
Eileen
Blessings and Love - Micke
Like the way this stretches your writing muscle like my Honeysuckle Rain.
Ron
love to you,
Christine
Love,
Chanti Lace xoxo
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.