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A Poem by Maryrose Anastasia

listen closely
to the susurrus;
murmurings
of dolors,
of existents
lingering,
soughing
languidly,
immured
by their
temporality. 

listen within
and you will
hear warmth in the dread.
it emits evanescent
gloamings; enflamed. 

young prince,
possessed by
unwavering will, and
in tender ardency he
softly scratches:

one, two, three, four,
a creak from the door,
a swift leap from beneath. 

lithe amaranthine
with delicately
nimble, rosen
petal-paws,
carefully he
navigates the
swampy corpus;
he trespasses through 
the inky labyrinthine;
he conquers the heavy,
mucilaginous air:
that drab, 
silent still. 

pursuing an easy prey, 
the doughty prince
closes in upon a lone, 
respirating hollow: 
post-solitary shell 
swathed tightly,
veiled lightly:
a dusken husk 
cocooned beyond
funerary enshrouds.

demurely he
nudges the
blanketed shape
with his
dew-wet,
tea-rose nose.
thus he emanates
with resonant pride
a fervid thrum
echoing:
it gilds my blood;
it vitrifies my bones. 

he nestles neatly, 
buried beneath, 
beneath layers
of old, woolen sheathes.

familiar comforts, i think 
as he curls up close.
familiars never die, i dream;
and for a moment,
as i tightly grasp
the treasured 
ephemera,
the familiar frame,
I believe. 

© 2017 Maryrose Anastasia


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Added on June 19, 2017
Last Updated on June 19, 2017