Queen of The New Glade

Cross-checked as a tree

After Fall had robbed her leaves…

The Queen of the New Glade 

Yearned and bled 

for the flashing page

which bore words

light as wings,

much like the webs 

that clothed 

her haunted dreams…

And as hornets will buzz

As they fashion their fresh hut,

our Queen began to form a tent

whistling wildly as she humbly went…

…Sewing funnels of thought

With the goodies she had brought

 …Mile high folded sheets soared

Until they spilled into the streets

Where she would ultimately

Spend her retreat...

The veins she wore within

Were woven 

Incredibly thin

As if to negate the 

Inevitable border

That is always approaching...

Reality is just "as if,"

a passing fad or

mode of fitting in,

and sitting very still

she might try to escape

this weathering...

...Like the wise owl

finds its gnarled opening...

…She too was engaged 

In a shortening of breath as

Her fellas hidden hand

Slipped down 

Her pleated skirt,

And pressed her pleasure button

In a flirtatious attempt 

To fracture time and space!…

…And, as if in answer…

“Yes!”: There was success 

In the seemingly elaborate ruse

To crack the Code of Conduct,

And pierce the veil that so often

Is abused by those in power who create

These psychic traps that

Strike a slab

Between this Year and the One

That comes…

…Like extra folds of flab,

the stone upon her face fell,

and she was flush!...

She was formerly

so often buried in her views

Which pierced

The weightless butterfly

Upon the sterile wall 

of perverse inspection…

Let us slip into the glade

That the Queen of Hearts has laid!...

...Each Year is ours to make,

And not the reverse, like some

Harshly wronged

Curse…

Cross-checked as a tree

After Fall had robbed her leaves…

Refreshed,

The Queen of the

New Glade 

Yearned and bled 

for the flashing page

which bore words

light as wings,

much like the webs 

that clothed 

her haunted dreams.

©

1/1/20

Bunny & Mavia Villaire