For the A-Z challenge, we decided to post a new and original poem every day (yipes!) Today, inspired by a Jane Yolen poem, Juliet tackles the letter "G."
The
Grimm
In
a moss-covered room,
She
sweeps the grime from the Grimm.
When
the men come home,
they
track in wet sludge, stiffened crisps of fallen leaves,
black ash from the
mines.
She sweeps the grime from the Grimm.
After
she eats the poison,
Their stumpy old hands will trap her in a clear box,
to
admire.
Marriage
will be her only escape.
So
that is what she dreams of.
When
it finally comes,
it
wears tight pants and plants kisses on her,
disenchanted lips.
disenchanted lips.
But
in the end,
The
palace walls draw as close as any crystal box.
There
is more than one way to get stuck,
sweeping
the grime from the Grimm.
©2013 Juliet Bond all rights reserved
