Miss Havisham's Fire
Miss Havisham went up in an ardent
flame -- a gladiolus that bloomed fast and thick
catching her breath somewhere between
ecstasy and surprise. The cake soon flowered too,
and then everything bloomed: the silk
and the chairs, her lace and her desire;
the windows flared as she turned,
looking around the room whose
furniture for years
held only you.
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Author's Note
First of a series of poems on literary characters.
Other stories by Philip F. Clark
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Now THAT is hot pants. *
I envy your concept, firstly. You've done a nice job of taking a famed and familiar scene and concisely pulling out the essence. *
*
** <3
Thank you friends!
*
See: http://fictionaut.com/stories/daniel-harris/the-havisham-complex
Nice take on a classic trope.
A pip of a poem, for sure.
Very nice! *