There were only three participants for December, and all the poems are now in. Antiaphrodite's is in the comments to this post, Enbrethiliel's is here, and mine is two posts down if you want to scroll there. Whew, done!
And sorry for neglecting this blog for the start of 2012...
QUESTIOn 18
Your poems are due by midnight Saturday.........
4 comments:
Word: snow
Question: Whose turn is it to do the dishes?
Trembling, for want of rest
In a warm room with so cheerful lit
With abundance enought for a fest
Attended by friends who know me best
There is a roaring sound around
From those that hang over my path
Blasting away the traces of fond memories
Aching, for sweet slumber deep
In a chamber so quiet filled
Upon a bed wide enough to keep
From breaking with the weight of my frail build
Howling cries lash upon me
Tearing at the bonds of friends
Deriding affections made long ago
For the cold bites my frame
And constricts my chest
Others, perhaps, may look for snow
But there is none here
The darkness is heavy with guarantees
Of terrors bearing down upon me
And feeding on my tears
For in the last dining-room I entered
I sat like a guest at a feast
And I missed my turn to do the dishes
But perhaps, at the end of this journey
I might take my place at least
I go to give my share
That this meager body can muster
And though my spirit quails
I am eager to do my part
In washing away the stain
+JMJ+
Antiaphrodite: I bow to your punctuality!
As for the poem itself (LOL!) . . . It makes me afraid of neglecting to do the dishes! It sounds as if the punishment is more severe than we think. =P
Antiaphrodite, I saw this when you posted it, and I didn't comment because I keep wanting to peel away the layers that I'm sure are there and "get" it. So far no luck, but then that's my comment for your poem -- you have written something that keeps me digging to find what's there. Good work!
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