Grinding teeth,
leak of heavy bass,
herded- for a nominal fee-
tubular chaos.
She watches intently
from the armpit of her fellow commuter
as a disco bauble earring
swings
lacklustre,
tepidly enthusiastic
from the pristine pierced ear
of a Chelsea goddess.
Slow blink, inhale-
Temperance girl
dads words echo,
heavily accented with hiraeth vowles.
The breaks of the burrowing monster scream
lights flicker
everyone looks up momentarily
resume positions.
35 years of temperance –
bought with her a double edged sword
of pain and joy,
a girl, a boy.
Temperance, the Nordic warrior
dreams of Valhalla and its snow clad tops.
She comes,
armed with a Dictaphone.
I bloody love it! Amazing what surges up from the soul when you’re riding on the Underground 🙂
Stunning play on the picture!!
Wow…when you dig, Shan, you do find treasure! Love this :))
ah, temperance! afraid i’ve never been able to avoid temptation and excess. {smile}
♥
I like the swinging disco ball earrings!
I feel like I know her!
I can picture her in a red dress 🙂 Brilliant poetry!