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Gunduy by Kat Bell

Lady in Black

I wanted to write this poem about a lady in black that I often see, who rarely smiles, if ever. I imagined a past for her that would give cause to her iron clad demeanour.


Lady in black,

Bogged down by heavy sack.

Dark rimmed glasses,

Long stern look through steel bars passes.

Black garment drenched over wilting skin,

Eyes burdened by untold sins.


Lady in black,

arched long curved back.

Deep crevices etched in saddened steely glares,

She toils, movements of others unaware.

Fingers twisted, bent and swollen,

A youth full of hope, stolen.


Lady in black,

No time for looking back.

Aching bones crackle under soiled bite,

Tears plunder behind dry eyes, out of sight.

Light dims, notice not she,

Heavy in thought, plowing tasks she be.


Lady in black tortured trail,

Dark shadow on her sail.

Dragging barbed wire words trapped in a broken past,

She is wrapped in a steel clad mask.

Tormented thoughts collide,

Pushing memories to the side.


Lady in black drudging stride,

Wind blows hard on a never bride.

A stranger waves a friendly salute,

A strained stretched smile does not suit.

Peppered sands coloured blue,

Grit pains a tattered shoe.


Lady in black hidden weakness,

Mistaken not for a moment of meekness.

Secret kisses stolen under golden trees,

A boy, a bike, a field with bees.

Long days spent in fellowed woods,

Sunlit skies and rain drop covered hoods.


Lady in black somber eyes hiding,

A secret, a hope, a dream free of confiding.

War bells ring over hill tops and rocky ridges,

Young men sing glory in battle over rickety bridges.

Hearts filled with folly,

Left behind a world of play and childish jolly.


Lady in black once heart filled wonder,

Wartorn shards of metal plunder.

Days go by withering forgotten past,

Young love dithering on an edge shall not last.

Winters brisk harsh cold,

Set in fury, firey trenches lit up in gold.


Lady in black a tear takes liberty,

Falling to the ground unexpectedly.

A crack in iron clad armour,

A thought, a betrayer, sought to disarm her.

News of a fragmented fancy,

Left lingering for a boy named Clancy.


Lady in black,

Choke the tear back.

A boy, a battle,

No horse to straddle.

Boyish charms slink away,

Empty cart returned that day.


Lady in black back to toil,

Working hard through blackened soil.

Lift up that hefty sack,

Straighten your strong hard back.

Doors shut tight on shattered heart,

Scattered dreams on winds depart.

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1 comentário


Jenny Brown
Jenny Brown
28 de abr. de 2021

Beautiful,

Curtir
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