Justicia

by

J. M. Hallett

She stood upon criticism, high
Head above the water
A maelstrom of nickel-plated fear
Swirled ‘round and gave no quarter
Deafening thunder, like a whip, bit hard
And oft times even harder
Vacuity’s acidic conservative reign
Sought her, caught her, fought her
"There's fight left in me still," cried she
"Of me nor mine, thy will not make a martyr
It's for all of you I do this, true
Every mother’s son and daughter"

NEXT?
Why don't you look at Waltz of the Morning
by: Joyce Hemsley
from: Sunderland, England, UK

To visit all of J. M. Hallett's poems, click HERE

Check out these deals at Amazon.com

...the best independent ISP in the Twin Cities

To write us about this page,
contact willy@dreamagic.com (Willy Chaplin)