Let's (Not) Talk About It.

If the elephant in the room
Would just take flight
And silence didn't
Replace the fight
 The heavy air
Would become light
You wouldn't be wrong
And I wouldn't be right


Posted for Magpie Tales

Song of the Sea

Crushed by the weight
Of a thousand tides
Into a forgotten
Sandy grave
Granted full resurrection
And protection
From a soul seeking solace
Who finds, that
I am not dead
Nor empty
Within, there is still life
Draw me close, nearer
And listen as I sing
An everlasting love song
Deep into your memory




posted for magpie tales

Inside Out

Wind on glass

Rain on pane

Skies burst

Clouds drain

Head on glass

Rain on pain

Sorrow bursts

Feelings drain

It's a cycle

Amusing

A"muse"ing
Amusing?
Crowds clamour at your gate

Protected
Reflected
Enigmatic portrait

Beguiling
This smiling
For centuries we debate

Compelling
Not telling?
A secret worth the wait.





Posted for Magpie Tales
For my other Magpie, click here

Duel

Duel

Beloved, how oft dost thou slay me

Upon a bed of wanton splendour?

How oft art thou kisses fierce, yet tender?

I shrink not from thine advance, but 

Hold stance in surrender

Take up thy sword for again we will duel

In retreat, I am felled o'er silken sheets

Locked in combat,  we trade blow for blow

Mine eyes disarm, thine arms disrobe

And whispered words caress a lobe

Shield me with the scent of thy skin

Leave me contorted and quivering

 Under thy tumoultuous touch

Thy beating heart muting the sound

Of our battle cries. As we rise...

 Come thou, release unto me

 The raging fuel of thy fire

 Extinguish my eternal flame, 'til I lay

Parched and drenched, spent,

At the sweet exchange

Full moonlight surveys a carnage

Of twisted limbs ensnared in an embrace

We arise, only to crown each other

 Victorious. This was war

And love conquered

Posted for Magpie Tales and One Shot Wednesday

For my other Magpie click here

Goliath

His was a quiet courage

The purple heart of the boy-man beating

Wildly within an armourless chest

Surrounded by emeritus gladiators who had gathered with

Heroes and champions, each wearing their

Trophies of mutilated flesh

Stories, mightier than egos, relished and

Embellished at every telling

Were suddenly hushed

Into deafening silence

 He bore no sword 

 Shielded only by the faith of his forefathers

 Trusting a God who loomed larger in his heart

 Than the towering Titan before him

His weapons: a slingshot, five smooth stones

And a mustard seed of faith

Taking aim, he found an achilles on Goliath's forehead
And felled the Philistine Giant

Rising as a legend

And a King



Luck O' The Irish



Fair Emerald Isle
Where green eyes smile
May rainbows grant
Three clovered wish

Upon this life
No blight or strife
But favoured Luck
O' The Irish


Posted for Magpie Tales

Jekyll and Hyde

Dr Jekyll, Mr Hyde
How come so bad and good inside?
Enticed away by fullest flavor
Culinary cuisine, I'd love to savor
But friends say you're no good for me
That we should not keep company
I've tried disguise with herbs so fine
Why must our love be clandestine?
And so in secret I'll conspire
To bite you hard...I'm no vampire!








Posted for Magpie Tales

Pulp Fiction



Pulp Fiction


Such a messy divorce. A trophy
wife, worn like a garnish on a
cocktail glass. Now atrophied
and discarded.
Too easily she peeled back the
layers of herself and exposed a
soft fleshy heart. Congealing, it
lies stone cold, and should never
have been worn upon a sleeve.
She's bitter now, not sour.
Bled dry, lost all zest for life.
This is pulp fiction. Somehow,
it isn't funny.



Posted for Magpie Tales

Pieces of Spring

(haiku)



Springs' Appetizer

Slowly coming together

In bits and pieces

Self Preservation



Self Preservation

"Edna, where's the bloody salt?" his irate indignation

Although the doctor stated: "Please consume with moderation"

She handed him the shaker, gave no voice to reservation

For wisdom speaks in silence and it's called self preservation


Thank you (again) to Magpie Tales for the image.

Assaulted



looking back

I publically maintained 

a pillar-like posture

privately crumbling

like iodized decay

under the weight of

her caustic cascade.

shame falling like

like dust at my feet.

she turned again

relishing the moment

and peppered me

tossing angry words 

like grenades

over her shoulder

dry and burning

upon fresh wounds

shaken, I had but

one wish : no tears

Thank you to Magpie Tales for the image.

Greenhouse

                                                           

Green and serene. The colour 

of her grandchildrens eyes.

Harriet repainted the house
ten shades darker now.
Perhaps a little tainted by the

stubborn stain of the feud.

They come, always through

the tradesmens door, bearing

todays currency. Daffodils,

hyacinths and a selection
of hot pastries.

It's a fair trade.

Quite suddenly it's summer

inside the Greenhouse.
And life blooms again
full and fragrant

but all too fleeting.

Sipping sweet tea,
and drinking deep

from her memory.
Rocking in reverie

for a time,
and a time,

and a time.



for more Greenhouse stories click here