The Dinner Party

A Dinner Table at Night, 1884, John Singer Sargent

 

Antique moonlight shines on heirloom silver-
Silent lake of amalgamated tears.
Exposed, they clatter loud as they shiver
A tragic masquerade to mask their fears.

Uncertainty spills hot from candles bright,
Lace napkins rustle echoes wet and wild,
Defying brilliant magic’s mortal sight
Spinning a new birthright to Karma’s child.

The weary larks wane, mourn the death of day,
As stars blink open their rust en-dewed eyes
Dark pleasures strengthen at the birth of May
Blowing off lights with their cold, morbid sighs.

Like fluids they hover on laid-out wares,
Human sense vanquished by unworldly cares.

©Mohana Das

Linked to The Mag

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22 thoughts on “The Dinner Party

  1. I especially like these 4 lines:
    The weary larks wane, mourn the death of day,
    As stars blink open their rust en-dewed eyes
    Dark pleasures strengthen at the birth of May
    Blowing off lights with their cold, morbid sighs.

  2. This wonderful sonnet has beautiful imagery painted around a tragic theme. I love the result! Thank you for sharing your masterful work, Mohana.

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