Notre Dame, poem, poetry, Uncategorized

Elegy For A Spire

Like petals on the burner,

the pyre of Paris ignites,

forming in the throes of her death

plumes that meld incense to ash.

-A. Struthers

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poem, poetry, popsicle, rhyme, rhyming, Uncategorized

The Death of a Popsicle

Ladies and gentlemen, if I may

so say a few more words

about our friend, who met her end

when sat by famished birds:

She lived a spotlight life you see,

too sweet to be ignored,

that’s why through panegyric,

every cockroach states they’re floored.

A model in the making

when to Phoenix, she was sold-

betrayed by her own contract

when in contact with the cold.

The wrappers can’t believe their tears

for she had been their muse

as now without her presence,

their own labels likely lose.

Three cheers for our dear popsicle

who melted in the sun.

Our popstar in the making

gave the most iconic run.

-Amy Struthers

poetry, rhyme, Uncategorized

The Death of Memory

Oh faculty of mine you keep

like a bit on a painted horse,

for as you spin,

your markings thin,

and life resumes its course.

So will showers grace these grounds and darling buds will bloom

and heat will rise to dry the cries that nurse the trodden womb.

So soft were eyes that mirrored skies

encased in what would die,

clutching wings of waxen strings

assuming he could fly.

The ghost of the willow warbler’s cry

will clip the snoring streams

as by its coo, will shock the yew

to mend the fading seams.

-Amy Struthers