These Are My JOTtings, Part #2

The Painting of Dorian’s Gray

The clouded skies of grayish bland
overshadow the restful day
as the self-absorb-ed man's demand
traps sunlight on his way.

The tawny orb now rarely seen
through biceps rippled taupe
now blind to island homes washed clean
of livelihood and hope.

Though days away foreshadow's mist
bespeaks the strength of youth.
The chosen mark is never kissed,
but ravaged of a truth.

Great storm of wind with swirling blows
Bahamas ne'er the same,
but hopeful heart of States folk knows
the need of 'cane to tame.

From sky-viewed movements Dorian’s face
is youthful, sleek and svelte,
but uffish manners, void of grace
leaves wake unseemly telt.

The glaring scofflaw bares his teeth
to crouch for mainland pounce,
while human souls now pray beneath
The One, Who can renounce
the storm's great fury, and swordless sheath,
transform its pound to ounce.

May Dorian's gray retreat or swerve
and dissipate as well
from humans, who could ne'er deserve
deliverance from Hell.

The bleakest hues of Dorian's gray
may overwhelm the heart,
but One, Who made the Earth's first day
can peace to us impart.

by Jay O'Toole
on September 2nd, 2019