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Sally Plumb Plumb

(23 9 1940 / Haverhill Suffolk England)

Betrayel


It walks by your hanging head,
transparent shame,
unholy bed.
There in your mind
the thoughts they turn...
what lies will form,
what blame be fed?

Then one sweet grasp at sanity,
a quiet repose...
till lying dread,
all cautions of the burning dread
that follows through
with words unsaid
into a mind of secrecy.

'Twill lend no ear
to silent sounds
for ever distant sighs abound...

the guilt of lust.

Self can't release
to love,
the peace,
the former trust.

Submitted: Tuesday, November 22, 2011

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  • John Raubenheimer (11/22/2011 2:39:00 PM)

    Self can't release
    to love,
    the peace,
    the former trust.

    unholy bed
    There in your mind

    These are the phrases I like best, and look! they make a small and lovely poem when you put them together! Lovely work Sally! (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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