As he lay on the feather stuffed cloth,
His eyes, fixed on the drab abode of hungry spiders,
His face, twisted in consternation,
Responding to the chaos from the battle within,
Which caused his head to sting in drum beat manner;
The lashes on the upper and lower lids met,
Enveloping the emerging darkness,
Strangely he could see more clearly
And felt like he was at that beach in Normandy……..
The voices boomed as the mob argued,
Some of them he recognised,
Others he never knew dwelt there.
The fish seller was there, proclaiming his cause alone,
The green eyed monster concurred,
Confirming their deviously struck pact.
Mr G.R Eed demanded his untamed desire,
Aided by his partner in crime, Mr Anger.
Youthful Lust carnally sneaked in,
Silently but recognisably,
Urged on by the others to take the stage.
Timid Guilt’s protests were conveniently ignored,
As Shame typically covered his own face.
Struggling to be unshackled, Hatred roared,
As all of hell was about to be let loose….
Suddenly there was a hissing sound,
Which triggered a calming hush,
Heralding the entrance into this scene,
Of a Ghost said to be divine.
In tow were virtue and other birds of the same feather,
Gentle but strong in their characters and ways.
The silence hummed as the fiends cowered,
For now Peace was to have his say…..
The tips of his lips curled northwards,
And the fluttering of the lashes allowed the radiant light in,
The calm remained, with a feeling of warmth.
Even the starving spiders seemed content.
p.s
Normandy is a place in France where the final assualt on the Germans in the second world war started.
femomololu 