where the dandelions grow (English sonnet)

by Mr. Darcy   Dec 14, 2020


Why do these days on lonely streets I cast
a clouded jewel on dolls devoid of face?
I didn't know the synapses that bask
Inflict, at times, a mask of borrowed grace.
In dusty books are pinned my butterflies
A catalogue of skewered strangled screams.
Why do they interrupt and make me cry
Reminding me of valleys ever green?
A femme fatale just dances where she will
On stages where the dandelions grow.
On bended bloodied knee I yank until
Corruption melts away like winter’s snow:
A ghost can only interrupt your days
If they are given space and time to stay.

.

Mr. Darcy
© 2020

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Latest Comments

  • 3 years ago

    by Maher

    "..until
    Corruption melts away like winter’s snow"

    This, my friend, is a line. Your whole piece is great, but that is the line that caught me. It has enough weight to sink the sun.

    Great write :)

    • 3 years ago

      by Mr. Darcy

      Thank you so much. I hope you are well.

  • 3 years ago

    by Everlasting

    Congrats on the win. Glad to see this in the front page.

  • 3 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    The alliterative lines in this, the unique phrasing, and the nostalgia of that lost love are phenomenal. The last two lines are some of the best, and kind of solidified the idea of being part of a process, growing, losing, then growing again. Congrats on the win!

  • 3 years ago

    by Jane Do-Re-Mi

    In dusty books are pinned my butterflies
    A catalogue of skewered strangled screams.
    Why do they interrupt and make me cry
    Reminding me of valleys ever green?

    I don't know why I've chosen to highlight these lines but there was just something about them that I particularly liked.

  • 3 years ago

    by Keira Pickard

    Congratulations on your win!

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