Inspired by In my craft or sullen art by the Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, I try my hand at poetry... it's also the prequel to a poem I've been working on called Your Mother's Quilt.
My Twin
Someone once said
that lover's lie abed
on spendthrift pages and
stanzas ridden with guilt.
My youthful flowers wilt
on your mother's old quilt,
toxic with words once
whispered and spilt.
Never again to be tangled in
another lover's covers,
my Twin is my twin alone.
Born to suffer that cast-iron fate,
we cast out all others and
test the solidity of our will.
And so this lover lies abed
with the warmth of her quilt alone,
a dream of ashen petals on her bed
leaves a quilt long set in stone.
that lover's lie abed
on spendthrift pages and
stanzas ridden with guilt.
My youthful flowers wilt
on your mother's old quilt,
toxic with words once
whispered and spilt.
Never again to be tangled in
another lover's covers,
my Twin is my twin alone.
Born to suffer that cast-iron fate,
we cast out all others and
test the solidity of our will.
And so this lover lies abed
with the warmth of her quilt alone,
a dream of ashen petals on her bed
leaves a quilt long set in stone.
So pretty, Sis! Welcome to the wonderful world of poetry :)
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