iceberg met Titanic
the day she was born
brightly-colored wings of steel
adorn no fragile butterfly
*
raised in the deep South
the essence of a lady
unfaded by years
of summer sun
*
eyes brown and warm
as flowing bayou water
caressing the banks
moving inexorably on
*
delicate hands
blue-veined on white
gentle fingers
flit to adjust silver widow’s peak
*
waltzing
with Dad in perfect synch
skirt billowing
whirling wings
*
velvet covered voice
with inflexible core
quick to comfort
quicker still to laugh
*
tragic metamorphosis
butterfly into cocoon
*
Dozing off
mouth agape
unladylike snore
droning
*
puzzling chores
frying eggs
toasting bread
brushing hair
no longer automatic
*
rambling speech
vague protestations
wasting body
drooping posture
shuffling gait
vacant stare
*
agonizing denouement
unspinning the life
unraveling the tapestry
so richly colored
*
cruel fate
to steal the mind
and leave the soul

*** END ***

(c) 9/3/99 Pat Hornsby Crochet

his guitar twanging
gravelly voice caresses
the melody,
bending the rhyme
to fit the time

spinnin’ dreams
tappin’ rhythms
on the back porch of the world
the rhymin’ man sits rockin’

(c) 10/12/99 Pat Hornsby Crochet