This short poem was inspired by a Halloween themed painting my husband just finished. It's a beautiful rendering of Frankenstein's Bride. He used an image of Rose McGowan as reference and the end result turned out…well…let's just say, even I was drooling. Check out my profile page for a link to the image of what his masterful hands created.
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A Bride Returned
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Flesh and bones, tear them from the earth
Take back what was taken from me
No stench too foul, no risk too high
To bring me to my senses, to make me flee
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In my arms again, her weight makes her real
Not the doll on display for a disingenuous tear
An ocean I cried but I no longer weep
A glimmer of hope after meeting my darkest fear
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Wrap her tight and secure for the journey ahead
But first one last indulgent gaze
Fingers trace her lips…my word did she move?!
No, you fool…just in a daze
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Horseshoes clomp and echo in the night
Closing the gap with each step
Hard to focus on what's to come next
I must concentrate. First my lab to be prep
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Swaddled there in the moonlight
But a sleeping angel in repose
My regrets at disturbing her tranquility
But already, my remorse she knows
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Over the threshold we go, my love
Once a bride and ever so yet
Your mate has you now, nothing to fear
His plan is perfectly set
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Rest there now on my table
My table of hope, my table of life
A surface of impossible miracles
Visit it now my precious one, my wife
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This will not sting or whisper of pain
Take comfort my delicate bride
Now show me all of your inner wounds
That's my girl, open up for me wide
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My finest work this shall certainly be
So soon she'll be good as new
A flash of light and resounding clap
Curtains raised, my love, that's my cue
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The clinking of chains and groaning of cogs
Sounds that thrill and excite
This is the moment, feel it deep in my bones
She'll breath once again, tonight!
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The assault on her now has come to an end
Raging sky now quite and calm
My heart pounds up my throat as I watch her so close
A bandaged hand clasped tight in my palm
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No signs of response, no movement of limbs
No twitches of any kind
But my patience is long and I'll not be deterred
Already made up is my mind
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Your hand I will hold eternally, my love
I promise our success will be found
Until then I hold you suspended in death
Shrouded, safe and bound
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I turn away to my parchment and ink
As they say, back to the drawing board
The storm will return and aide me again
I'll find my mistake, no detail ignored
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My musings are deep and distract me from all
I barely notice the sound so dulcetly faint
A whisper so light…couldn't possibly be?
SHE SPEAKS! MY ANGEL! MY SAINT!