Well I abominate fame, and a great name!…

Well I abominate fame, and a great name!

Yet I am for the deed which bears that badge of blame!

For like to the slain neck-deep in his own blood,

Pursuing quittal ‘pon slayer and his brood –

Or peccary that’d have cactus for food,

Cactus’ spines winking, and pike-fang’d mood –

So I, being no other than that I am,

Course Duty uphill, long neglectful of harm!

My task to my lady’s tied, as by inlet

Sea to land, to shade whither she walks, fan in her flannelette!


How often in her strolls I’ve sweet breaths let fall,

Scatter’d everywhere, toppling each item of aerosphere

With vanilla fragrancy stoling all the air –

Like winter heliothropes along the wall;

To take her senses on, and bate down her feeze;

For well in that sinks she every now and then,

As perforce one must burden’d with such increase;

Whose fair looks fairer grows ‘neath eyes of men:

As doth Sea suckled of dry Sun yet swell at teats,

The more suckled, ache her milk deposits!


Like prime starlets in paltry parts scouted by Fame,

I, gnawing ably small favours of my mistress’, catch a name.


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By Sydney Chesterfield on June 12, 2016 · Posted in Braindrops On Yellow Leaves, Literary, Poetry, Trends

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