A strong bout of envy sent them reeling,
Twisting and turning with hatred in mind.
Seething between gritted teeth of steel,
Thick as thieves within their consonance.
Greed and spitefulness drove their actions,
Legalities placed them in echelons of power.
Pieces of tarnished silver and tired antiquities,
Pre-occupied moves between here and there.
Tying up loose ends and bolting down padlocks,
Relativity had lost its relevance and connection.
A discoloured frame held younger years in view,
Its static reverence attuned to passing spectators.
Few chattels gathered into dusty nooks and corners,
Shadows scattered by memories of the green lamp.
©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 21/05/2014
Poet’s United Midweek Motif: The Colour Green