WITHOUT EXCUSE
She unfolded the paper
Brittle dry and yellowed
She read the words.
The candle glowed in the sconce
She heard a sound behind her
The latch key clicked.
The scene before him unfurled
His stubble-darkened face paled
He had no words.
Her feelings of guilt hung low
The hurt of fragmented pride
Without excuse.
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Author:
Michael Edwards (
Offline) - Published: November 12th, 2017 01:18
- Comment from author about the poem: Four Stanzas in 7/7/4
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 86
Offline)
Comments8
I like these Michael, especially the third one.
Love the abstract, another painting that you could spend a lifetime in finding new things within.
Thanks Andy - these started out as stand alone stanzas but with a bit of tweaking they sort of went along together.
A fine write and pic again Michael.
Thanks Orchi
Incredibly well written, Michael, but I am not sure who did wrong to whom here. She has feelings of guilt, and he has no words.
Thanks Fred - as we would say here in the UK - a couple of derr brains eh what.
Michael, I am not as daft as I look, so I googled 'derr' since I had no clue what you were talking about. So, a couple of stupid brains? I just hope you are not talking about you and me! 🙂
No definitely not us two - the two in the poem - we are the tops - not sure the tops of what but the tops.
My analysis of your picture MIKE shows an ELFLIKE FIGURE in a yellow cloak. Sharp nez ~ grining bouche and bright oreil (all IMPS are French !) I can only conclude que cet IMP is the cause of all the incongruity on your quartet of Odd Odes ! Thanks for scaring ~ ONCLE BRIAN
Thanks Mon Oncle
A beautiful painting for starters! I love your poem, I just wish I knew the words that she read. But really great!
So do I Christina - thanks for your kind words
Great write
Thanks so much Tony.
Welcome
Beautiful write Michael!
Thank you Skye your kind words - they prompted me to look at your postings and I was most impressed - will look out for them in the future.
Thank you Michael! It means a lot 🙂
The color meets perfectly in the paint, so does the poem. Interesting scene.
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