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Tag Archives: love

Past Joys

Cattails gently sway

Bowed brown heads against blue sky

Mud squelches, frogs croak

***

Pine, Spruce, pierce the sky

Puma prints wind among trees

Coyotes praise the dusk

***

Musky scent of horse

Deep brown pools of liquid love

Soft lips tickle me

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Damned

My love-ly prison

Watching old dreams through love’s bars

Heaven’s on this side

Maggie

Maggie

Orange lantern eyes

reveal a bright wild soul

Beautiful Monster

Familiar Spirits

My eyes caress her

Silky fur felt in the soul

We’re familiar

AuGUSt

How quickly she’s adjusted

to the warmth for which she lusted.

Finding her joy in a name

and in a love she can claim.

Surprised to find she’s safe,

that she’s no longer just a waif.

She’s losing her sorrows

in the certainty of her tomorrows-

that there’ll be food in her belly,

and a soft place to watch telly.

Supernatural

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Supernatural

She’s supernatural, my cosmic kin,

forged at once so long ago, now together again.

Comfortable companion through eternity,

she’ll always find a way to return to me.

Fearsome defender, but with a soft touch;

she gives her everything, doesn’t ask for much.20170423_162757_HDR~2

Together in stillness, for me it’s enough;

she’s always nearby when things get tough.

With an intelligence that’s second to none,

her muchness just can’t be outdone.

So fierce, so brave, so misunderstood;

she’s lived through more hell than anyone should.

She is her own, but somehow also mine,

two spirits linked with a psychic line.

All beauty pales next to her light;

an earthly star, she’s still so bright.

Olive eyes shine forth from a stone facade,

relic from when she was worshiped as God.

Still my Queen, picture of magnificence,

she’s well aware of her own significance.

Fabled, famed- Supernatural

mistress of mine, a grimalkin called Nell.

Library in the Bog

Library in the Bog

Musty, dank, and clammy cold

furtive shadows lurk, dancing

in the twilight. Mists enfold

ancient cases, sinking, barely standing.

A catalogue of self, hidden within this fold

of brainy bog. History decomposing.

*

Danger and pain await within.

The Traveler must be stealthy, must be wary,

lest they be led astray again

by the will-o’-the-wisp and the dancing fairy.

Come upon a pilgrim past, and mark their deathly grin,

a grim reminder lest you ever seek to tarry.

*

Be wise and listen to my words

as I tell you of the lady grim.

Her beauty and her grace have ruined many lords,

bewitched by her form, svelte and trim.

Any man will gladly join her ghostly hordes,

though they be ripped limb from limb.

*

Our lady prowls these fuming halls,

seeking no prey, but sparing no man

who dares answer her mourning calls.

The one whom she adored left this lan’

long ago and past even her recall,

Death of love, this bog-mire began.

*

The overwhelming stench of decay

has eaten the flesh from her face,

and despair has well done its part to flay

her soul from her breast, and erase

the compassion she used to display.

Leaving only lust, and love debase.

*

Spoiled memories of love

crowd every drifting shelf.

Rot spilling down from memoirs above

adding ever, more filth to this bubbling piece of self.

What used to be a thriving treasure trove

of memories, is now, deplorably beyond any help.

*

People of wisdom and spirit

will avoid this library of bog and hell,

opting for life and all that comes with it.

Disregard the mire’s putrescent smell

you must pass by the Lady’s horrid pit

unless, you’re already under her spell.