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