Jezebel’s Halloween

The scarred foil yielded,
Merlot found the bottom where dregs lay;
A cork sealed again,
Words limbered as Fall rains fell all day.

No pictures were ever sent from Pearlington.
Another’s dream has left the Pass,
Uncommon memories fade;
Time to refill one’s paisley-stained glass.

The black cat dropped down
Licking a lank paw;
A last leaf spirals to stillness
Alone in Death’s maw.

That chill in the middle of the back
Mocks the dread in your gut;
The screech-shriek died in a jaw slack;
Not in fear, twas anything but.

A stab of lightening you will recall,
Lit the surprise awaiting us all—
Jezebel was alive!
Then, your last fall.

It was just a simple October,
A parceled out poor Saturday.
A scandal of rains hung low,
But things were going your way.

Of course you were invited!
You’d bought that ruby bottle;
The costume party hinted promise,
And the fun engine roared to full throttle.

The storm rains had burst forth
As all the corks let fly.
Twas warm in the foyer
And your love you did espy.

The oriel would be deserted,
So Jezebel led you away:
Promises yielded to plea;
Yes, you could stay.

Upriver the dam was holding
As the partygoers were off at last.
Yes, alone with your Jezebel—
Passion unleashed as costumes off-cast.

But no one heard the rush…
Addams’ Dam was no more.
The wall of water they say
Was high—35 feet or two score.

Awakening drowning atumble,
You and Jezebel tried to cling to bedclothes,
But no succor there would be found;
Swept away as flood’s torrent flows.

Finding at long last each other;
Fear full afloat while loss uplifted;
The roar of the Onion Falls called.
You knew, only one can be shifted.

Grabbing Jezebel one time last,
You kicked for the nearing shore.
Flinging with all your might…
Her lips never to taste evermore.

A stab of lightening lit your Jezebel:
Safe on a branch was your fair miss—
She made it!
She reached… as you embraced the abyss.

Witches each year prowl the precincts
In company with jack-o’-lantern’s snarl obscene.
But things won’t ever be the same,
Not for Jezebel’s Halloween.

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About Kitt

Sometimes a rhyme or couplet wanders across my consciousness. So, I share it. Other times I'm a hospice social worker; others, a Dad; others, southerner, New Orleanian, cajun enthusiast, voter, and on better days, a not-too-awful-poet/rhymster. Welcome to my page. Enjoy.

Posted on October 24, 2015, in Poem and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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