This fey freckled daughter

i wrote a poem, heck, i'm a poetic fool these days, but there is one poem that i am proud of, with which i have fallen in love.

that's not to say that i have a lot of ego invested in it... but it does want to be seen.

is that enough of a nervous entry, a schizoid introduction?
if you're a dear reader (and, of course, you are!) you know all about darling daisy merrick.-- wild child, scared child, freckle-face, laughing crying girl... how her family and friends must miss her, if i, a stranger, can ache this much.

tw -- aw... never mind. whaddaya want for your b'day, brother-boy?

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Daisy Love Merrick: An Abandoned Villanelle

This fey freckled daughter bore the task

Of gap-toothed water dancing and good death

Which more pallor than sun's freckles did unmask.

Transparent although tensile strong you never had to ask

Is this the oath, this the path, this the aftermath?

This fey freckled daughter bore the task.

Near sand near surf did lolling Daisy bask

The heavy salted dead of seas lightly bore her breath

Which more pallor than sun's freckles did unmask.

I cannot keep you trapped inside a villanelle! You wriggle wry,

laugh aloud, but took to sobbing in deep sleep, as malignancy

came three times, four times, in more syllables than is fair --

Refused meter, every rhyme. But you, you freckled water whirl,

fey dervish of wide oceans, spun your pippi braids right off, 

twirled unbound in sunlit time, blond hairs eddied in the under sea.

You surfing flower urchin weed, the pallor that cold blue

unmasked, brown pools for eyes, you bore the task,

and left us this oath, this path, this dreaded aftermath.