Crops, Props And Ropes Poem by John Sensele

A nest of hopes
A crest of props
A breast of ropes

Bless lives and relieve stress
When in prayer on a mattress
Volunteers intercede for a wise waitress

Trapped and wrapped in a nest of vipers
Calling tantrum tunes through pied pipers
Prepaid and postpaid by storm snipers

Avid enough to manipulate malice
In Spring, in Summer to slay bliss
They target in brackets of a Judas kiss

For a few pieces of silver
Shining in the shimmer of a risk river
Flowing and clawing in the mind of a retriever

Struck numb
Gone dumb
Keen to bite a thistle thumb.