The Alchemist

I thought I’d write this quadrille (prompt word “magnet”) in anticipation of Halloween with its cornucopia of bat wings and eerie skeletal thrills. Quadrille Monday at dVerse limits each offering to 44 words, so be warned!

She walks in a drysalter’s den
wearing death, her subfusc,
scattering acedia’s magnetic coils,
like iron filings shot hard
against fate’s blind eyes,
their littoral currents crashing
against her noon day commerce
of herbs, bone dust, pharmacopeia,
against concinnity escaping
fruitless desire, skulking caitiff.

Read more quadrilles at Mr. Linky.

24 thoughts on “The Alchemist”

  1. “She walks in a drysalter’s den
    wearing death”

    This is mesmerizing to me and so utterly captivating. You really do show us all how poet-ing is done! This is a fantastic piece, and again, that first line I had to read over and over before moving on with the rest of the poem. It captures the reader greatly putting them in a trance. As well, the genius imagery of “bone dust” and “skulking caitiff” are incredible. So beautifully penned. ❤ ❤ ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Such fabulous wordplay in this one! 💝 I love; “their littoral currents crashing against her noon day commerce of herbs, bone dust, pharmacopeia.”

    Liked by 1 person

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