Life’s Waste Land

By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

In response to Bartholomew Barker’s Monday Poetry Prompt: Waste Land for Living Poetry

The Dream

Long white gowns
embellished with lace,
Sparkling with crystals
from far off places.
Satin cut to fit a slender
figure soon to expand.
Dreams of white knights,
castles and land.

The Honeymoon

Gentle caresses tempered
by sweet new love.
Long walks on the beach
bright sunshine above.
Nights full of raw roiling lust,
sleep until breakfast’s long gone.
Words and actions start to change,
foretelling of things going wrong.

The Struggle

Two children have come
to the bride and the groom.
Their castle not a castle
grows too small, there’s no room.
His work days grow long
he’s rarely at home.
The bride sits and stares
rocking a babe, holding the phone.

The Truth

Her knight never home,
the nights are so cold.
Growing tired she decides
to follow, to watch and be bold.
With kids, the dog loyal by her side
she sees him with a lovely woman.
Heart broken in two her soul tattered
goes home to pack a small pullman.

The Struggle

Texts and calls and plea’s from him,
all of which she refused to receive.
His letters and visits from his friends,
not his words would she ever believe.
The court battles turned brutal
each wanting to exact the most pain.
In the end the judge split them
and nothing at all had been gained.

The Rest

An old woman now stooped and grey, watched with love her daughters face.
That gown of soft satin encrusted with jeweled crystals and lace,
Swirled as she walked down the aisle
with her own knight by her side.
The mother of her past her prime,
prays a life not a waste land this time.

5 Comments

  1. Love the “Nights full of raw roiling lust”. Great work. Thank for writing to the prompt!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sadje says:

    I hope a happier fate awaits the daughter.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Sadje says:

        🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼

        Liked by 1 person

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