Poet #3 "Alabaster Beauty"


Broken, bruised and blue,
Bled the sky between
Our barren brethren,
And I - bereft,
Believed it to be
Behooving of me to
Bear the brunt
Of that blaspheme,
Brought down by our
Beleaguered brethren.

But before my bifocals,
Beaten but beating,
A brazen beam burst
Forth from the bosom
Of that alabaster beauty.

Bicuspids blare a ballad,
Brickwork boast their brawn,
A buck brays in the brush.

Oh! What benevolence
Could be brandished by

That brilliant behemoth,
Burning back that

Bindweed I have battled -
Borne out of my own
Blinding and bloated ego.

The End

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