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Lady In Waiting

Black lace bodies
Lie suspended overhead
Exposing nature’s careless side
As she bids her winged beasts
To crave light,
To seek light, to desire…
But, so many don’t survive
Don’t survive the need
The instinct, the demands
Pulling like the tide.

Sighs are heard, I
Think they're mine
Borne out of
The carnage imposed upon,
Demanding,
Multiplying above me.
...Pondering the chore.
The chore that lay ahead-
To rise and find balance on the bed
To ease them down slowly, Careful.
Careful not to spill the victims.

A few taps, a few taps
Extracts them from my horizon
And into the trash, seagulls will
Pick through next week.

I replace the rippled glass sepulchre
And like a spider
Just spun her web
Lie and wait for them to come.

Laurie~This is kinda weird and hard to relate to. An insane woman? Collecting dead bugs in her light receptacle? It has no redeeming qualities other than its strangeness. I see no hope in resurrecting it since its base qualities are so lacking. Maybe stick it away in a notebook as a self indulgent exercise. What's with the Tide??!? The seagulls??!? It just doesn't hold together or define itself as a whole concept. The speaker is creepy. A few taps, a few taps....take it away. Sincerely, Laurie

Thanks, Laurie. I don't feel so alone now. I read it once and thought, "Well, I'll just come back to it, cuz I'm not getting it first time around." So, I was just on my way back, and read [ahem] your [tee-hee] response. At least we're looking out the same window now .

Shall I give it another try later? Or wait till after it's re-emerged from that notebook?

~ Lizzy

Well, it is just my opinion, but i think it is hopeless. Written over ten years ago, time has not improved it. In hindsight, self-indulgent stuff reads just that way. Of my really bad stuff....it is one of the worse. Gotta run....looks like i caught a moth......

~ I rescued a mosquito hawk from out of the web of a pretty devilish-looking spider the other night. Spider guy was looking out from behind the picture where he's made a home. I'm thinking he may be a recluse spider and, if so, he's gotta go. He honestly looked a bit shocked when I climbed up there to pull the mosquito hawk free. Took some untangling of that web material to get him able to fly again. Released him outside. So, good luck with your moth.....be glad I'm not around .

Ten years ago on your poem puts it into context. I'll still try again later ~ one more time. The self-indulgence may be an indelible mark, though .

~ Lizzy

Lizzy~If that picture dweller is a brown recluse (i think they have a violin shape on them) nothing to tinker with.

And shame on you!!

You. Don't. Mess. With. Nature. It was natural selection put that skitohawk in the web. That spider has karmic backup now to seek retribution. Meddler! Show it the door and quickly! Paper plate, paper cup...the last thing my spiders see before being tossed out the door to carry on their spider-ways in the great outdoors.

OHhh! What if that spider has a nest full of hungry little ones who needed that hawk!!??!
Good luck. You will need it now!!!! sigh. L

Unfortunately, I know what you're saying..... .....however, too late now, and in my area, I need the hawk more than I need the spider....particularly if it's a recluse. I'm all too aware of the dangers with that one! Have seen on others some of the damage they can wreak! I'll be lifting the picture from the wall with great care.

Yes, I'm the plate/cup variety myself....anything that goes between me and it, until it gets put outdoors. Well, I'll get it the full-meal-deal soon, many more insects to its liking outside. For now, it missed out on Door #1 and will have to wait for Door #2 or Door #3.

Quit trying to make me feel guilty . I go through enough with these critters as it is! At least it'll live to feed the babies, if there are any. When I transport, the whole family goes.

~ Lizzy

LaurieAK, those words meant something at one time. They had relevance and merit, or they would not have been threaded together. The fact that they do not impact on/in your conscious thoughts at this time does not render them superflous. You will know (I'm sure) that many writers (dead and living) use pieces of paper to scribble notes, ideas, thoughts, visions even, which they pull out of pockets to read at a later date when their minds are ready to contemplate what they have collected. For example, a famous poem is imaginatively built around just such a method of remembrance. Wordsworth's 'Daffodils.'
Your words exist and their collective embrace belongs to themselves and no longer to you. Let them lay in peace on their page. They drew this response from me didn't they? Best regards. Byron.

Byron~What a charming post! Thank you for being a voice of reason. Even if hindsight renders it artless to me, it still is a reflection of a moment in the past, a "collective embrace." (What a poetic phrase). Something learned then, shaped the now. Thanks. Really. Thanks. Laurie

Lizzy~Guilty is as Guilty does, madam. Don't shoot the messenger!! Cheers and eeek, a Spider.....L