Jessamin Henrietta awakes
to join me dancing on the blacksmiths grave
The dirty metal smith once her husband
always abused Jessamin in life
holding her back from living
the filthy metal worker tried to kill
Jessamin’s lust for life
but every day of the dead
she joins me in dancing on his grave.
written for the prompt by Laura Bloomsbury in the poetics for dverse poets pub
From the grave stone of MR HENRY SMITH AND HIS WIFE JESSAMIN
who ran the local blacksmiths until they both died together in 1885.

Though slightly macabre I do love the story about the terrible blacksmith. Made me think of the opposite with the nice blacksmith in Great Expectations..
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that was the inspiration.
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Good for Jessamin, I don’t blame her for dancing on his grave. I hope she had a better life after he’d gone.
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“but every day of the dead
she joins me in dancing on his grave.”
Her lust for life evident with her dancing now! thanks for joining in the prompt with this
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Ah, Jessamin – but they died together? I wonder how. I hope she’s in a place where there is a lot more fun and dancing.
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I wondered how but no clues
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Suicide pact? Food poisoning? Forge burnt down? Runaway horse and cart? The possibilities…!
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I love the idea of an annual affirmation of life by dancing on the grave of one who did their best to kill the joy of it in another.
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I like how the poem makes me wonder why they died together and who was dancing with her.
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Love that she dances on his grave, that evil man!
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Nice creative poetic license with the Smith’s. I had mentioned elsewhere that the one thing left off headstones is the true character of the deceased.
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Sometimes one really does get the last laugh in death if not in life! Well done!
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Sounds like it ought to be a ballad sung in the Appalachian Mountains.
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