Beauty and the Beast

The words of poetry are

but a mask,

pages, screens, books being

assets of anonymity

to hide the brutish specimen

behind them


that brute knows

the pathos is played

most easily,

charms only with vain airs

of flattery


Wonders never cease

in this topsy-turvy tale,

even surprises arise

when least


when most

surprisingly of all,

she fell, even then,

sight and seen,

no words read








Hello all! I’m posting a quick poem so the idea doesn’t evade me (I have the memory of a . . . of a . . . Oh, I forgot 😉) Anyway, I will go back and read everyones’ posts on Monday evening when I return. I’ll be on the road til then (and washing my hands frequently.) Stay safe, stay healthy, and the Lord bless you all! — C. D.

4 thoughts on “Beauty and the Beast

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