she was spanish moss of rose,
to grow in petal bleak behind façade
of happy, in subtle situation buried
under stapled thumb
to try in might to save
such simple lives from break,
by venom dripping words oft spoke
in curse to wither sacred soul,
as dog in cur of cringe
to shrink itself into the floor
and even though with every word
she died, in parted piece be piece
where sadness roared upon her shore
as surf to steal such crystal sand
she flew feeble on broken wing,
in greater love to sing and share
in faith, to lift her beaten blossoms
to grow in fertile flower stretch of peace
toward light of shimmered sun
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