3 POEMS OF THUNDER BY CAROL ANN

THERE IS NO DARKNESS THAT DOES NOT LOVE A LADY

There is no darkness that does not love a lady.
For a lady loves the night things.
Yellow roses glowing in the moonlight,
Fireflies swarming like tiny punctuation marks,
In the vast, moist darkness of the night.
The smell of roses and fertile earth,
So sweet and solitary permeates the air.
Green lizards crawling through pointed blades of vividian grass,
Pretending to be evil.
So tender are the blond curls,
At the base of her alabaster neck,
As the playful wind remakes her hair style.
Some people want to be known,
Like cheap carnival rides or cotton candy.
Gaudy, noisy, easily understood.
Common as dirt.
Not so for a lady
She will walk alone and inviolate.
And she will hold her secrets inside a turquoise box,
Until she is dead.
When the box is open they will fly up to heaven like soft tiny doves,
In a flurry of wings.
For a lady needs the darkness, the quiet,
And the silvery arc of the moon through whispering trees.
Roll on you majestic darkness and envelope, envelope, envelope.

SNOW

There is a fierceness to snow.
It caresses as it kills.
Its relentless whiteness vanquishes all other colors except gray.
It paralyses with its beauty.
And deadens with its monstrous cold.
No, snow is not our friend like its paler cousins, rain and fog.
What is beautiful can kill.
What is soft can break you easier than a knife or a sword.
T-Rex, fearsome lord and prince of blood,
Once ruled the forest primeval.
And the snow came and brushed his lizard eyelid
With a soft, tender flake.
And he said, “Welcome friend, soft and beautiful one.
And he was wrong.
Dead wrong.
What is soft breaks things more completely,
Forever and ever.
Yes, there is a fierceness to snow,
And a shimmering of silvery white.

ROTTEN DOLL

My heart is a broken thing,
Like half of a Valentine candy.
Be mine, broken one.
Trace its jagged edges,
And bleed like Jesus on the cross.
You twisted me, you tore me, you beat me,
Like a Rotten Doll.
Now I am a Rotten Doll.
Twisted, wry, murderous at heart, bitter as cloves,
At the core of my being.
My stockings stained with your cruel, careless love,
And my smile as fake as a plastic rose.
Your face lingers over me like a polluted sky.
You twisted me, you tore me, and you beat me like a mangy dog.
Now marry me, you Prince of Darkness.
And Reap just what you have sown.

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