“Death of Whydah Sibyl” by Ken Allan Dronsfield

Stand at ocean-side, exhale screams

cut through dense air, her throat tightens

releasing weird screeching caterwauls.

The ice melts and Sibyl climbs the tower;

in gown of white with gold lace; coat-less,

barefoot and cold, warm sunrise is soon.

Covered in darkness, within the icy dream

cursing those of pious dogma and reform

wearing a studded gemstone black collar;

gifted from her knight now dearly departed.

Deep within the throes of welcomed death,

Whydah Sibyl reaches with gnarly fingers;

breathless as water drips from castle walls.

Reciting, “as the dead are never truly gone;

unless they are totally forgotten by the living.

My life; a coolish sea breeze, stormy at dawn;

entranced, raving mad as a boiled chicken.”

Whydah Sibyl still sings her lovelorn sonnet,

and now rises high into the clear black sky,

whispers echo in a soft light, ‘your knight waits’.

Cast in a verse of silent night, she disappears

into the crest of a rolling wave, never forgotten.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a disabled veteran, prize winning poet and fabulist from New Hampshire, now residing on the plains of Oklahoma. He has three poetry collections, “The Cellaring”, 80 poems of light horror, paranormal, weird and wonderful work. His second book, “A Taint of Pity”, contains 52 Life Poems Written with a Cracked Inflection. Ken’s third poetry collection, “Zephyr’s Whisper”, 64 Poems and Parables of a Seasonal Pretense, and includes his poem, “With Charcoal Black, Version III”, selected as the First Prize Winner in Realistic Poetry International’s recent Nature Poem Contest. Ken loves writing, hiking, thunderstorms, dabbling in digital art and spending time with his cats Willa and Yumpy.

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