My poetry/prose In memory of Sylvia Plath

On a night that's starless,a grim moon sits

Still as water without life and breath

My fitful dreams cast a shadow foreboding

As I enthuse,struggle, with arms flailing

Under the bell jar

In trepidation

Like an insect I watched myself in sheer fascination

Preened my flaccid limbs numbly around the walls

I try to drink,to absorb your sorrow to its fancies

Sylvia.

Would not life have had a second shot

As you inspire generations with your tearful art

Your words are arrows to my heart

Your life a pained chronicle

And stranger than unfamiliarity bred

To its selfsame song

If only you knew how loved,awed,adored

Your pen is to future and futures

I bleed the pebbles like boulders

Were they grown in your heart

Until the day is overcast to that ashen sky

The sighing willows make a malady

Sunset is but one half of a cycle

Until sunrise again.

PS* Sylvia Plath is one of my favourite author/poet. She was married to another famous poet Ted Hughes and committed suicide shortly afterwards when she was devestated that he had an affair. To this day there are still outraged fans blaming Ted Hughes for her death.