The poet gathered her linens and walked outside.
One of her poems had offended a friend, who cried.
“I had no Intention of such - I haven’t tried.
How can I know which Words may cause some Fret?
They fall to me. Some are accepted, some denied.
The Elected gleam through the Frames in which they‘re set.
This Poem will disturb as that Poem will please -
thus so with our several Fates. And yet…and yet…”
An insight came to her like a jangling of keys,
shortly after this score of poems on bees,
as she observed the laundry flapping in the breeze.
“Our Universe is filled with Planets such as these!”
Suddenly Emily dropped to her knees
and looked up to Venus and Mars above the trees.
“Somewhere they‘re figured on a vast Platonic Frieze,
each one with a vulgar, bragging Beast…
though Beasts are often Friends. Let‘s call them - Frenemies!“
Yes, Emily knew this much, at the very least:
“Life triumphs best with Dragons in its Crease!
Before my Spool has run out, as Priestess or Priest
I’ll assemble a World of my own, Piece by Piece.
I‘ll purchase, on a million-annum Lease,
some Eden…or, better, some pre-Hellenic Greece -
before Olympia, and ere the Golden Fleece
evolve from flights of microscopic Geese -
into which I’ll insert, with Moxy and Caprice,
some Dragons in its Crease. Yes, Dragons in the Crease!
A Plenum filled with Hymns to Love and Peace…
and Dragons, and Dragons, and Dragons in the Crease.”
So here they are! Some dragons in the crease.
[Previous: Part Three]
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