Today I have a free verse poem (that started out as a poor attempt at a Rubaiyat) from the prompt, Scheherazade. Enjoy.
Scheherazade
Warm breeze past the window, blossoms in bud
jasmine fragrance wafting against dried blood
I imagine their eternal screams, their dread
Will my fate be theirs? Will my tears flood?
Twilight, and the candle flickers, waiting
my spell of words begins, reality abating
I smile and weave my snare, my salvation
he is caught; my endless story scintillating
The days grow warm, each night I tell my tale
of pirates or kings, great adventures set sail
drowning his hate in ideas, dreams deftly spun
in vulnerable sacrifice, so I may prevail
People speak of poetry as compact as compared to prose. It would take many words in prose to express the last line. “Vulnerable sacrifice” is definitely poetry.
Thank you.