Poetry Forum

In dulcet tones she preaches from the pews.
She builds a bridge of fairytales and lace
and dreams a troll beneath it; on her face
are lips that smile and lips that pout: two sets.
While one may cozen, watch its twin accuse
and then deny the words so any trace
is nothing more than memory, a space
where questions grow, and so do epithets.
 
Her world is sand and sugar; any threats
of storms are met with trembles and retreat
but only from the torso, while her feet
dig deeper in with stylish pirouettes.
 
A spiral with no anchor is a line
that draws itself apart, in swift decline.

The original thread can be found here

i remember well this dulcet toned preacheress. great pick quixi it was good when i first read it and better on this my umpteenth read.

The title sounds as though I've released my own perfume.

Damn.  Now I know why I stopped writing poetry.  Damn woman, you got some real control of that raging subtlety of yours.

You didn't stop, you just took a break that's been longer than expected.

This poem arose out of being pissed off. If you like I can try pissing you off more and see what happens...

"Dreams a troll beneath it" is one of those lines that stick in the mind. It's cartoon character perfect

Excellent. If it has four fingers and yellow skin I can keep milking it for 20 years.

Thanks, Quix, for putting this where it can easily be found. On first read this had a full belly and never fails to satisfy. The poem itself tastes of it's subject, just cleverer A memorable whole, thanks for posting it, Leanne.

Hi, Nobody.

Crystalline. I remember reviewing this before as (in part) a Clinton critique, but reread this recently as something else -- works any way.

Cheers River -- it is assuredly not about a politician of any stripe, but I'm pleased it may be read as such.