A clip brought this on. A simple, everyday, normal clip.


Wanted: A Kindly Mortician

It pulled at the wrinkles
and cracked the 'war'-paint,

A cunningly designed
instrument of restraint.

It strained at the roots.
But the eye-pleasing result,
silenced any complaint.

A cunningly designed
instrument of restraint.

It held all the hair
back from her face
kept it ever so firmly
within given space.

A cunningly designed
instrument of restraint.

So there it lay
stranded amongst strands
black and gray.
Hither and thither
would they joyously sway
But she was afraid.
And so, it stayed.

A cunningly designed,
instrument of restraint.

When she had passed,
the kindly mortician-
her last beautician,
blissfully unaware,
undid her hair
and let it fall angelically 'round her face.
(in its rightful place)

How easily he'd rid her
of a lifetime's restraint!

Everyone at the ceremony
remarked after scrutiny,
and 'ooh'd and 'ahh'd
at her ethereal beauty.
They were apalled
to many a sharp intake of breath
at the eerie development;

She'd blossomed in death!!








Poetry by shar
Read 942 times
Written on 2008-07-06 at 07:27

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penfold18
Excellent from start to finish, conjured up wonderful images, an unusual subject yet handled extremely well and the last line is a work of art in itself, an absolute pleasure indeed Shar.
2008-07-17


Mark J. Wood
Stay clear of clips of all kinds.

This is a special one: when is the book coming out?

Mark.
2008-07-10