After Wide Sargasso Sea ( For Those of You Readers Who Have Empathy For the First Mrs. Rochester.)
And is it like me...
this dark inner paradise
and is it like me
these rising tides
and crashing waves
the seas-a-rolling
and is it like me
these inner darkening clouds
and is it like me
this tempest
this anvil-shaped heart
this inner insistence growing...
I have been
tossed high up into the mountains
hidden deep dark down in the gloom and the green
I am the moss and the moldering
I am the loss and the feigned innocence now
from a time when power was cruel
and decays with the graves and the dust
I am the ashes and the damp-blood clay
trampled beneath bared feet
I am the fading light of my failed reflection
Why am I Not
this money-tempted man's rued distraction?
high in his cardboard rooms
cloistered as a nun
the sun now lost to me
only the flames of the candles burn
the sun no longer a memory to me
author/poet retains all legal copyright for this poem/work
5:33pm PST April 8 2020 time/date stamped
and also for this legally copyrighted site title
Meloo Straight From Her Tilt-a-World
by this poet/author Melissa A. Howells
I am for the Underdog, the Lost, the Unrequited and Forgotten.
Written after a third and thorough reading of Jean RHYS's timeless
classic Wide Sargasso Sea...a reworking of Jane Eyre and the deemed less-
than-heroic of Heroines, Antoinette, AKA by her Mother's name Bertha.
