Ladybee42 Poetry (3)

Why?
Because my world was crumbling,
a world of black smoke filled skies
balconies fluttering with old grey laundry,
embedded with bomb dust
shredded by shrapnel.
For shame,
abandoned by the dead and the dying.

There is no peace,
no unbroken sleep,
no scattered stars with milky moon
drifting softly over dreamers,
with an ear for the howling dog
the wailing cat,
or whimpering infant.

There was no peace,
so I pressed some silver
into a palm,
to cross a line
between some sand
and the good earth,
warm, quiet, inviting.
Just one more journey,
one more sleep,
then the darkness
of peace.

When Delia died she disappeared
From mouth and mind
Passing away into the past,
The collective family memory
Described Delia as 'distant'.
Meanwhile,
Mr Delia remained alone a year or so
Then joined Delia in death.

As my in-laws became my out-laws
I climbed to the attic
To perform a purge of unwanted memories
Surprisingly, I discovered Delia.
In an old travel chest
Covered in dead dust motes,
I found her in travel diaries and little notes
In old photos
I found her wearing furs,
Posing in exotic places
Surrounded by smiling friends.

So I pulled Delia from the past
Sitting for some hours in the attic
Soaking up her stories,
She was neither 'odd' nor 'distant'
She was wonderful.
In another time and place
We were surely friends.
Silently, I mourned her for some moments
Then lifted a small cheap charm bracelet
From the old chest
That once atypically adorned Delia's wrist,
To bring her around the world
For one more whirl.

I shouldn't but I do
Have command of my lovers hands,
Though I don't need their tanned advances
Or their delightfully soft demands.

Flecked with yellow and cinnamon
His lovely warm brown eyes,
Are the charming and most disarming
Keys to my demise.

For I drown in their soft beauty
Regardless of where he reposes ,
So he plies me with Belgian chocolates
Wrapped up in the reddest of roses.

Trapped here within this blackest of sin
That surrounds me when he is gone,
I know,
It's wrong,
His gold ring tells me so,
But when he begs, 'Be my other woman'
Then my lips just won't whisper 'no'.