(From Creative Writing where I had to appeal to the metaphorical senses through a list poem, ie, a sound, a smell, a color...)


Past streets of harlots and

The smell of white snow,

With eyes colored charlatan

'Neath flicker lamp glow.

A sip of pale lips drift

Through spindled soft sand,

In an hourglass sift.

Ramble through Shadowland

Tempests of nicotine laced

Glass hats shielding smoke,

As black carriages paced,

The bread yet un-broke.

Sight held beneath,

A passion to rise,

Adonis to breathe-

Through corseted lies.

An L shape construe

Enough to have woke,

The champagne imbrue,

Too drunk to have spoke.

Burst through a pillow

Silenced by down,

Barren the willow,

Dry through his crown.

The noir piano strums

Like novels of grey,

Driving through columns

As sirens made way.

A heart once made brittle,

Is a lesson to gain,

To never belittle

The mouse that grew mane.