Though the invitation is ominous . . . .


Your emotions frozen with fear float 

Like snowflakes from languid lips. 
Aimless longings which would caress me
Speak to me in hushed undertones

From within a spider’s web of deceit
You awaiting with tangled thoughts

Inviting me to a fatal, final banquet . . . .


Like a lost, lonely child I acquiesce.


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Starward's picture

This poem. really, is like

This poem. really, is like one of Robert Aickman's best stories---eerie, daunting, and with a clear foreground, but a vagule unspoken background.  The acquiescence of the lost, lonely child, like one of Aickman's concluding lines is, acquiecence to  . . . what?



sweetwater's picture

A delicious poem stirs the

A delicious poem stirs the mind with fascination. Sue.

Stephen's picture

A great review of my poem by a great poet.


eleven_eleven's picture

interesting. morbid &

interesting. morbid & depressed...yet unmistakenly mysterious 

Stephen's picture