Flame of Rust

A flame of rust has lit my dark

Rotten, sharp metal, like a shark

Grins at me slyly

My face burns shyly

Hands dryly

Look white, stark.

Pillars of Power

Returning to lawlessness, now

Wanting a pillar, a gold crown

Those pillars can't quench

Power's rancid stench

That stone bench –

Cold, its vow.

Little Aquamarine

The aquamarine, her sole gift

From her mother, before the rift

Had torn them apart,

Kept in the great dark,

She'd depart

Make a shift.

Drops of Dew

Cool dew seeped down morning's mint-leaves,

Whispered purity on its eaves,

Secrets abounded

Message unfounded

Leaves rounded

Love conceived.

Spiders

Do the spiders possess a law?

They skitter in cogs with small claws,

Causing giant clogs

Obscuring like fog

In a bog

With small jaws.

(132 words)