Construct Cup V 2.0

Celestial Musings

Celestial Musings


Annabelle Sandford Wikingham Bennuti Fairfield Worth
sat ensconced in her high backed brocade and hammered leather chair
with her left foot raised on a Byzantium ottoman, her Persian cat sprawled near the fire burning
and her white Bichon snoring gently on her lap. Thin blue-veined hand
held a paper-thin Royal Albert bone-china Vald 'or tea cup
of pomegranate Celestial Seasons tea; she sipped and slipped away.

Years drift back until she is newly married to Sir Lionel Wikingham. Her knight, gone away
to war before the wedding flowers faded, died to save a hill; some few acres worth
of mud and rice. She remembered how he’d held her, how he’d kiss her ear and cup
her breast in his long-fingered hand, woodworker, not general: he’d built this chair.
Lionel left her alone, pregnant and wealthy beyond measure; but with no one to hold her hand
when she miscarried their child. Still, she was young and had barely banked desires burning.

Giuseppe, artist of both canvas and con, had wooed Miss Annabelle with burning
kisses, wild ways and wilful intentions; he married her and then slipped away
with her jewels hidden in his portfolio. He never realized the very hand
that fed him, could bite. He who painted fake masterpieces, couldn’t gauge the worth
and got naught but paste. Her friend, Gianetta Porcello poisoned him at dinner; dead in his chair
by the time the Tiramisu was served. She smiled as she emptied the dregs from his cup.

Thurgoode fell from his horse at the end of the Biddeforde Day race, while reaching for the winner’s cup
Miss Annabelle was holding. She fell too and the wedding took place at his country home. Burning
bridges behind them as his four sons refused their acceptance, deserted the family chair.
Three years she was the lady of the manor before he, gout-ridden, apoplectic, passed away
leaving her with a crumbling castle, a drunkard heir and the rest not worth
their weight in manure. She happily left the estate, trading country bird for bush in hand.

The love of Annabelle’s life, she met when she was fifty plus. He’d asked for her hand
the day they met. Three weeks later in linen and scarlet lace, they drank from wedding cup.
Thirty-nine years they’d roamed the globe—from Rome to Madagascar to any place worth
their time: safari across vast savannah or north to Iceland for a glimpse of volcanoes burning.
She rode elephants in India and a llama in Peru: when they grew bored, they simply slipped away.
The teacup shook in her hand. Oh, she missed him so, sitting alone, in her chair.

A stuffed rhinoceros grinned down at her from above the mantle, high above her chair,
what-nots and thing-a-ma-bobs graced every shelf where there weren’t leather books at hand.
She pet the dog who raised black eyes to be reassured; he didn’t like it when she went away.
Christmas Eve, she mused, just tea: there was no one to simmer rum, to spice the Wassail cup.
Annabelle poured herself more tea as a log settled, embers reminding her of lost loves burning.
She’d had great loves, been round the globe; it all comes down to what a good cuppa is worth.

The cat jumped up to the back of her chair, leaning in to sniff at delicate cup.
The pup’s pink tongue licked her hand; to have only puppy kisses burning?
I’m not dead yet; must be up and away, thought Annabelle Sandford Wikingham Bennuti Fairfield Worth








Prompt for: June 17, 2014
Subject or Theme: Celestial Musings (interpret at will)
Word(s) to Include: Glimpse, vast
Forbidden Word(s): Astral, heavenly, milky way, moon, sky, space, star, sun
Additional Parameters: Pick any form you’d like as long as it consists of more than 7 lines. Please provide a link to the form you use. Remember, do not use forbidden words ANYWHERE, including title.
The sestina follows a strict pattern of the repetition of the initial six end-words of the first stanza through the remaining five six-line stanzas, culminating in a three-line envoi. The lines may be of any length, though in its initial incarnation, the sestina followed a syllabic restriction. The form is as follows,
where each numeral indicates the stanza position and the letters represent end-words:

1. ABCDEF
2. FAEBDC
3. CFDABE
4. ECBFAD
5. DEACFB
6. BDFECA
7. (envoi) ECA or ACE
The envoi, sometimes known as the tornada, must also include the remaining three end-words, BDF, in the course of the three lines so that all six recurring words appear in the final three lines. In place of a rhyme scheme, the sestina relies on end-word repetition to effect a sort of rhyme
.