Jezebel
Jezebel reflects, remembers,
pens her sweetest verses--
never tends neglected embers,
etches perfect tercets.
Her pen remembers, the slender pews
were then red velvet dressed.
She’d spent endless vespers there,
sheltered, free, blessed.
The elders there, they’d served her well,
when she’d left the streets.
Yet ere she’d wed,
she swelled.
The wench, the temptress,
dwelled
between the bedsheets.
Thence, even the Reverend jeered,
“Serpent, we beseech thee…
Repent! Else we’ll decree,
be ended here!”
She fell, she knelt, expressed regret,
yet they were hellbent, vehement.
Even when she wept,
she’d been expelled.
Every letter thence she’d spelled
reserved, repressed her secret.
She’d never tell.
She kept the Reverend’s secret.
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Author guidance for This poem
One vowel only! (*ahem* or, one consonant! Whatever kills you inside)I copied this from here:
http://www.protagonize.com/story/vowels
way too proud of it to keep it under a Mature story :)
4 PARTICIPANTS IN THIS POEM
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THE GOODS
You're currently reading the poem
Jezebel, which
was posted on Jul 20, 2010 by
Rac7hel.
This is a collaborative poem.
About this poem
"Only using one vowel... harder than it looks, I'll tell ya that!"
This poem is filed under:
Character, Lyric, Word Play
This poem belongs to 1 group:
Collaborative Poetry
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