Wind blows twisted round the edge
Sharper ninety degree squared
Angled poised on concrete ledge
Gargoyle granite heart despaired
Straight and narrow, plumb declared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
Compass points no longer shared
Crooked staff would drive a wedge
Wrapped and trapped by thorny hedge
Disdainful eyes bleakly stared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
I’m curled and furled, back unspared
Raked and sanded, soft scars bared
Drilled a hole, my soul to dredge
I stand convicted, no one cared
Wind blows twisted round the edge
Another attempt at Quatern. AllPoetry prompt posted on facebook – “plumb”
My goodness this is a fingers on the edge of the cliff piece..reminds me of a story I read in school about Samphire collecting on a cliff edge..’Samphire?’ I imagine nobody heard her fall either..powerful write..I think you win the darkness crown this week – it sparkles though! Jae
thank you Jae – working on form, now I have to go google “samphire!!
A dark poem … I felt the sharpness of the wind. Well done.
Thank you Deborah – this was a little out of character for me 🙂