Poetry Friday: _dent_ty Theft

_dent_ty Theft

Love seemed a dream, a warm well of contentment.
She gave herself up to the arms of another
and packed her own dreams far away, sans resentment,
unaware that the sweetest embrace can yet smother.

For she was no doormat! No, merely enchanted.
Bound up by love’s feathery arms, she could fly.
Slowly her own lofty goals were supplanted.
She never asked how; she forgot to ask why.

She never gazed up at the stars to remember;
her eyes shut, she rode a warm current to sea.
She slept, and her soul wasted to a dull ember,
a kernel of self that no more blossomed free.

But one day she woke up, no longer enraptured.
She rubbed her eyes, saw how she’d stumbled awry.
She scrambled for her scattered dreams and recaptured
them, strode to the door, and declared, “I am I.”
 

This week, Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect challenged readers to write a lipogram—a poem that avoids one or more letters of the alphabet.

Obviously, I chose the letter I, avoiding it until the final phrase. The poem doesn't include J, Q, or X, either, but high-scoring Scrabble tiles don't really count in Lipogram Land.

This week's Poetry Friday round-up is at Adventures in Daily Living!