He, She & the Smoking Bishop – A Blank Verse Poem

and their cries echoed with the ringing bells

as christmas crested on the chilly breeze

heated words hung with odious timbre

boiling over like spiced wine ‘pon a flame

just as potent yet not so fragrant nor

as sweet as black liquorice and peppercorn

christmas spirits lacking complexity

mulled with bitter words dripping acidic

as two lemons steep roiling like flotsam

simm’ring in their own turbid discontent

to taste of themselves they find off-putting

what a shame to spoil wine with such promise

a little sugar or honey would have

gone a long way towards making the mixture

one to be cherished and shared among friends

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