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more 'Acquiescence'

'Acquiescence' Bring me vellum and charcoal bold Then lay awhile in tepid light Humming and winking Fresh and naked as ...

Friday, February 24, 2017

Dance to my Door



When will the lonely path we're on
Entwine with hearts & minds so strong?


Will time implode like hunger pains
Will distance parish all our flames?


So till the heat has been eclipsed
To fantasize with prescient lips

Till heat and wild passions soar
Your dreaming steps dance to my door
 
 ~

A distant Love


A distant Love

Sail with your bounding heart
See with your prescient hand
hear with your tender essence
taste with your callow breast

Reach with your vibrant soul
Gather to your aching mind
know with your shining flesh
Swoon for those kisses mine

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Pale Umbrage


Perceive the air as loving stories
Where we are bound up in our mores
Conceived in moonlit sweet warm nights
Preserved in days of pale gray ice

Cast into the mist of Winters regret
Delirious Summers of denials cool sweat
While warm embraces defer our woes
Cold earth shall clutch our
insentient toes

Wednesday, February 15, 2017

The Widowed Bride


A tremendous act of kindness, by him brought love about
For on a cold and blustery day the passions acted out

A Sunny day shown down that perfect April morn
'Twas damp with chill, on wintry night a tiny lass was born

Her papa was a strapping lad, who never shirked from chore
Upon her mother's aching heart, they sent him off to war

Their hearts were locked in mindless bliss, that Spring upon the heath
Too soon their deed tore all apart, mid silence bound to keep

With sturdy limbs, bright eyes of gray and hair of tousled curl
Much interest in the child turned, who'd fathered such a girl?

The letters came to cheer each day, upon the sheath, no mark
But day by day each soldier's fall, revealed his beating heart

Sublime the day the war had passed and soldiers all came home
But not for those whose caissons rolled, her secret love be known

For in first days with lists at post of lads who marched no more
His name did cut the paper white, with ink her heart it tore

Still letters made it to her eyes a mystery hand had sent
As only one could even know from whence their passage rent

And on a day as fair as most with child by her side
She wed the deaf mute postman, who wooed the widowed bride