A Groundswell Poem by delilah contrapunctal.... yes, that's how I intended to spell it.........

fated, albeit non-procrustean,
to
blear
the jollity of warmer hearths....
quickens....
....just as quickly
recedes...
relocates
to
a familiar wutherland....
a more
frequently wandered
corridor
of
mirrors...
.framed in octagons and quintangles....
blessed by farcement....
and
readier
to render a masquers montage......
........navigate
mangroved backbays...
this
.....treasure-hunting
in
brackish,
blinterred woozlemires......socks on...or off....
quieter there....if a stifling hell...
is comforting
in its parables....stories
of love gone right.....