Jonathan ROBIN (22 September / London)
Reflections: Bridal Reign Or Bridle Rein?
Mirror, tell us mortals all
Is it Bride before fast fall?
Revelation of defeat?
Resplendent triumph? Joy complete?
Or hooded warning naught can stall
Recalling Chance consumes conceit?
Mirrored hand from sable shawl
Regretting wrinkles, tease or cheat.
Room for no groom when scythe's tithe treat
Outplays Hope's hand and trumps heart's call,
Refusing wedding band replete.
Mirrored lily blank receipt
In time to come when Time's dumb beat
Retrieves blanched gifts, lifts veil on pall
Returning dust to dust, recall
Of pregnant promise, harvest wheat
Rich Death's drought withered, seedless, small.
Mirrored grasp, last gasp, catchall
Icing dreams that once stood tall,
Rescinding promises pure, sweet,
Refusing prayers that children greet:
One wonders why life's mortal thrall
Runs out untimely, doom must meet.
Mirrored fingers grace-girl maul,
Intensely grip with gruesome gall,
Respite ungranted, paraclete
Regretfully cannot compete
Or face refrain of Fate's footfall
Retrenching humble, vain, slow, fleet.
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