View the Girls

View the girls

In the mist

the smoke and flames

Of campfire lust


Giggling and whispering…

                                                        ‘and dust to dust’

But where is she?

The ‘Ann of Cleaves’

Under the clay

Beneath  the acrid earth

Her golden braids moistened,


She leaves

And heaves

                                                       Who should walk alone?


Along the path

The forbidden road

Of delights we trust

Mislead, indeed

The noose was loose

She did not shudder

Taste the bile from Satan’s udder

Her last thoughts were for her mother


One breathless prayer was for the others

Angelique L. Jenkins

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