Well Maid Peace

my lacquer,

is knackered,

is chipped, nicked and finished–

and clear,

my veneer

is dulled and diminished…




is cracking—no joke!

my varnish

so tarnished,

there’s no anecdote…

yes, I’ve lost

my gloss

tossed wrenches unneeded,

explains why

my wolf cry

is lately unheeded…

with bluster, though

luster grows

finding way back

to un-knick

my knacker,

and polish with wax,

a layer

mixing prayer

with skin newly formed…

in animate


patina unworn.


prompt: knackered

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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