Narrative of the Anguished

When black lace gloves are laid on finely polished wooden dressers and the long procession is over, in stillness she sits at her beauty vanity and stares into the mirror. Thoughts of sorrow and anger forcefully take over. Silent tears stream as she wipes off her makeup; clothes are taken off and left strewn on varnished wooden floors. To crawl into bed is all she can muster; he is gone now, and will never come back to her. And what of the children’s tears? She must grieve in painful secrecy for they need the strength of their mother. Fall has come, and alone in tearful anguish she awaits the bitter cold of the winter.


Poisonous Envy


Gorgeous pearls and rare diamonds adorn her.
A beautiful angel she is, and they adore her;
She is ravishing and wondrously alluring.
Aesthetically unmatched her recipe is prepossessing.
A goddess among women and incomparably charming,
But behind seductive hazel eyes lies desolation and decay;
Her mask is worn and starts to disintegrate day after day.
They love her in her glory but secretly despise her.
In dark corners they devise plans to destroy and ruin in utter.
She is a beautiful roe unaware of the hunter’s bow;
If they would know her humanness and deep sorrow;
If they were aware that at night at walls she stares;
If they would only see her pleasantries and genuine sympathies,
But they are poisoned by long held jealousies and secretive envy.
To know her, is to know longing for genuine love.
To be in her company is to see kindness and generosity.
To look into her eyes is to see a loving woman in despair;
In her sterility she desires fertility, to one day have a family;
And she ponders the duality of life and finality. 
Lonely, she slips into her royal blue silk nightgown.
Another arduous night has come;
Precious tears stream as in darkness she softly lies down.