Days of Wine and Roses
A poem
A poem
A fiery exclamation of wrath and disdain,
a harvest of barren regrets,
a few tears to soften her seared vision
absorbed in the scent and murmur of the night.
Womanly fickleness and caprice
when the profane voices are hushed.
Words and acts easily wrenched from their true significance,
whilst the morn kisses the sleep from her eyes.
The scars of rancor and remorse,
the hinted sweetness of the challenge,
the deep and solemn purple of the summer night,
the pendulous eyelids of sleep.