Orphelia Waits – love storm in the Triangle:

Nicotine yellow, brooding, fingers

Scar the sky –

Orphelia waits.

 

#Metoo, she wrote.

Claiming her spot

At the base

No disgrace

 

Moving round

Without a sound

She points one finger

Points the blame

 

Nails polished, bright,

Light blinding

Night-grinding

Comfort giving

Rescue package to his pain

She shifts again.

 

So, It’s him that’s hurting now.

She’ll lift him,

kiss him,

make him better

‘til overwhelmed he rejects her

Its much too much for him to take.

 

The he becomes

the perpetrator

Finds some callous ways

to hurt her

 

Then when she is on her knees

He’s bows,

grand gestures,

Tries to please

 

And round and round and round they go

Sometimes quickly

Sometimes slow.

 

In love’s pursuit it seems

A geometric dance of three

Steps forward, three steps back

Until they find the knack to see,

their positions differently.

 

Then the threat of storm might be

Just that

A threat.

Reality

Will not be half has hard to see

When creator occupies the space once held

By victim

 

In Place of the tyrant perpetrator

One step round from creator

Sits the challenger to all they are

And once more round they’ll find a coach

To help them as they fast approach

The challenges they must face.

 

But from THIS place

They’ve freed the victim,

Snuffed the tyrant out

and best of all

They’ve let the rescuer rest.

 

 

Hywel 21/10/17

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