The Poet

The Poet

Monday, September 26, 2016

Images by Ronald S Porter ©2016

Shadows of wolves in the midnight moonlight;
The lunatic laughs, hidden high in the trees.
In the campfire glow, she sways on her knees
Flames reflect in her glimmering cat eyes
her body in movement as supple as a snake.
The gold gilded idol looms, a large yet hollow shell.
The prince of thieves, with his dark dagger, pries
The glowing sacred jewels from the statues eyes.
Drum beats throb like blood rushing through the vein;
Who is the madman when everyone is insane?
The keep of the fire looks to the east
and waits for the moment the sun will rise.

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