Aug 212011
Duelists remarking the shoreline's fair,
Suave and snakelike grace, are debonair.

To see Beauty in the tooth
That loots you of your life, is truth.

So they thought as they paced the sands
And took the air, having shaken hands.

Blessing gracious life's most gracious feast,
Pinky to pinky, they tinked teacups 

With the beast.  Redder sands rubbed hourglass
Hands, ticking as their seconds ran.

Debonair as dandies though they stood,
The sizzing sea hissed in her maternal moods.

No one attended their marginal funeral
Save one awl-beaked dull-eyed slue-foot gull.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.