Tuesday, December 06, 2011


He stands on the Cathedral steps,
Set square, every inch the image
Of Holly B movie gangster.
See how the nostrils flare.
He wears the drapes, slicked down hair,
Take care, come hither, stiletto stare,
Unfathomable eyes to all but those
Who come to know the shallows lurking there.

She stands at his side, first prize,
Picture perfect, A-list bride,
With a hint of frailty,
It should not be denied, but
Beneath the petals, razors hide.
She’s been through hell, emerged the other side.
When two such stars collide,
We know their fate,
The weaker will disintegrate.


  1. Anonymous8:26 AM

    I see the likeness. Excellent poem, Beryl

  2. What a lot is provoked by these words. I really liked this one. Good poem.