06 July 2010
her cursed eye
My eye will haunt you, far beyond this day.
Its yellow flecks will constrict your passions.
Like Poe’s old man’s heart, that’s what some will say.
It watches you spend your father’s rations
with gazes intent when lovers draw nigh.
Your slick-willy ways and stunning fashions
smash in your face when you mention my eye.
Your lover gasps, and asks if you’re crazy.
You say, "Can’t you see it, up in the sky?
Up there, by the clouds, maybe it’s hazy.
You really can’t see it? It casts a light.
The eye of my first love, now dead Daisy.
That day she cursed me, her eye threw a blight.
She may be gone. but I’m still in her sight."
Shout out to Rallentanda at POW for the great picture prompt. This piece is a terza rima sonnet, a form Rallentanda had us working with a couple weeks ago.