Pendant

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Chimes inscrutable

muffled on sighs

yet audible

wispy cotton

souls try

bodies lie waste

and soon destroyed

no abode

cries arise

in last vestments

they vagabond

interred, buried and burned

the feel is out

ashes to ashes

glory has

marched up

another wedding party

to celebrate

in deep azure clouds!

I am striving hard

being that bard

with words and thoughts

shifting shapes

in my mind

as it manufactures

with fertility

all that

food for thought

and it is so delicious

that you would want more and more of that

come immerse and stay afloat

while I drown in more words!

Look at the picture that comes with this poem rather closely. Do you see innocence and do you see a glint of a desire? How would you like to see a pendant round the dainty neck of this beautiful woman, nay, woman come child.