Romancing a Stone

She plowed manure-laden fields dreaming in stone,
while she loved marbles and cried under black umbrellas.

She lay naked in the sun, bones baked in the desert heat
with images of an old cold winter in grey.
The moon and the stars spoke of energy as an old friend lay dying.

A cemetery monument erecting a dream to God held passages of the Devils Bible.
...and then simply here and now, as now and then, it read, He Rests.
No dates. No one could ever figure out where he came from, or when,
they weren't even sure when he left.

They could only guess where and how he went.
A tale of death every man dreams of, he was known for saying.
He lived in a time when time was not constructed, but within mind's eye,
a maritime of flotsam and jetsam,

marking diligently as Collector John marking
Lily's rebirth, as she floated with Eve watching Adam outside the gate.
A world within a world she loved marbles, and wood,
and she cried under black umbrellas.

 
Written by Sherri Coulter on 21/06/18
© Sherri Coulter

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romantic, sad, grief, love, death, Eve, Adam, World, dreams, marbles, stone, umbrellas, moon, stars, friends

 
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Christopher Russon 25/08/18

 

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