The Shanty's Secret

RSS

By Lunaria •

The Shanty's Secret I walk through the thicket My legs scratched and bleeding Falling against a picket A rest I am needing How can I find this broken down shack? There are too many trees I gave one a good whack Fell in pain on my knees The velvet blackness of the night Doesn't help me find my way There is no moon to light The night and at least make it grey The stars also refuse to shine And have turned their backs on me This is indeed to me a sign And I stand in revery She sent a message by pigeon grey The pains started this morn I am to find her without delay And help the babe to be born All night I fought through the bramble By dawn I found the old shack I really had to scramble She was there lying on her back The most beautiful babe lay in her arm Wrapped in a blanket of white I looked at my love with alarm She had died in the night I buried my love in the old shack's dirt floor The pain of her death cut like a knife I knew I would return here no more And carried my babe home to my wife. June 17,2005 copyright © Lila May Guptill (AKA) Lunaria All my poetry, and other writings are all legally ©Copyrighted before posting. Do not use .Thank you. Lunaria.

This poem has no votes yet.

To vote, you must be logged in.

To leave comments, you must be logged in.

July 24, 2005 13:35waterlily

that strikes me as a classic poem of tragedy and comedy in the purest sense of the words .dont you think?one wife dies in the bearing of childbirth while another wife assumed the new wifely duties of raising the wee one of another's love's loins and bloods.what a predictameant if ever there was one.dont you think?

August 5, 2005 03:25Lunaria

Yes, It's a strange poem.