[stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards

Lynda Lambert llambert at zoominternet.net
Mon Apr 2 23:31:10 UTC 2012


This is EXCELLENT.
Powerful imagery throughout, it moves along at a good pace with contrasts 
that are powerful. I have read it a couple of time, and will come back to 
read it again tomorrow and them make some comments. I want to think about it 
for awhile first. this is a very good piece of WORK - and isn't the WORK a 
joy in the end? A job is turned to joy in the poem and in the writer of the 
poem.  I really like this!
Lynda



Lynda Lambert
104 River Road
Ellwood City, PA 16117

724 758 4979

My Blog:  http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
My Website:  http://lyndalambert.com






----- Original Message ----- 
From: <KajunCutie926 at aol.com>
To: <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Sent: Monday, April 02, 2012 6:13 PM
Subject: [stylist] Sharing my earliest sestina House of Cards


With all the talk of Sestina's today I wanted to share with my first
attempt written about 8 years ago.  At the time this so taxed my brain and 
I
wasn't sure I would ever attempt another but of course, I did.  I have
attached it as well. I do hope you enjoy this very feeble attempt.

House Of Cards
(sestina)

Once upon another time she lived
In a fragile house of cards.  She  knew
Only that she was sheltered, never heard
The winds of change that  silently
Blew against the coated-paper walls
Of her blissful existence,  until it crumpled.

She found herself alone amid the crumpled
Ruins of the life she had  known, no longer lived
Behind the sanctity of sacred walls
Which kept its  secrets.   Innocence knew
It would die in shame, silently
Lying in  the ruins of her being. Unheard.

The Knave had claimed he heard
No denial or admonition and she  crumpled,
Allowing the lifeless cards to fall silently
One by one.   In darkness lived
The Kings and Queens.  Only Innocence knew
Evil  had shattered the paper walls.

She picked through discarded walls
Searching for treasured Innocence but  heard
Only silence.  Laughter, she knew,
Lay buried in the life now crumpled
And yet she survived.  She  lived
To carry the secrets within her silently.

And time, in its fashion, ticked silently
Within her soul.  She  woke one day to find walls
Of Faith where debris once lived.
Was that the  whisper of promise heard
>From beneath the dreams crumpled?
Could she  regain the life she once knew?

Again, time flexed its knowing muscle for it knew
That some things must  be borne silently
And without reprieve.  The life lost in the  crumpled
Ruins would not return to thrive within the walls
Of yesterday.  Truth's hammer clearly heard
As it rang through dreams not  lived.

And in her soul she knew, that no longer would walls
Stand by silently,  ignoring the whispers heard
While the house crumpled, burying what once  lived.


© March 2004









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