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the sound of dripping
after a mid-morning rain
trees now awaken
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Pagan Paul
.
A door opens with creaking sounds,
inwards to a dark and cool room,
untouched for many hundreds of years,
barely a flicker lights the gloom.

Peeling decoration whispers
at a past richly bottled in wealth,
now nearly empty except for
a curious book upon a shelf.

Bound and covered in lizard skin,
with words that swim on the pages,
shades and shadows cross together,
spells cast by the ancient sages.

A long bony index finger
tracing symbols down an old spine,
pre-history condensed in leafs,
that unfold through space and time...



© Pagan Paul (09/11/19)
.
The Azuneas (Ah-thoo-nay-***), invented by
me for this new mystery series of poems.
.
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Fearless
through long green fingers, the sun glints
a single dew drop waiting to fall from morning
light and dark contrast different hues of brilliant green
zebra shadows crisscross my window
musty earthy humidity tinges the air with scents of life
the cool pool beyond sits in glassy stillness
morning is here, and the Day of Rest awaits
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Traveler
mad
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Traveler
mad
then i was lost
i know
i had paid
the cost
scars are
all i have
poetically
have i gone mad?
tt
Life would
be quite
worthless and short
If this is
the only
dear life
we
have.
Great
plans just
death can abort
to be
useless
once you
met
your grave.
As for
those who
die young,
in
childhood's
tender
ages
How short
and
incomplete
life
would be
How
unfair and
unlucky if
death's
the end
for them
Besides
life to the
fullest is
eternity.
What
about
those who
born
and die
poor
or those
born deaf, blind or lame
What if
they were
so
doomed
without
any cure
How
unlucky if
resurrection never came!
But a
belief that
there's a
life
after this
could be
of great
consolation and solace
especially
to the
poor
handicapped,
the
shortlived
that they
could
make it up
under heaven's grace!
For the
good one
who is born blind,
In heaven
shall he in
brighter
vision see
And the
goodly
one yet
who
has lost his mind
will in the
afterlife
be as sane
as could be.

The deaf
man with
his balance
of pious
acts
Only the
hereafter
would
compensate
what he
lacks
And that
godly one
born poor
and who
dies poor
could be
of the
richest at
heaven's
door.

In this life
those
who've
been
saintly yet
unable to talk
could
cheer up
to believe
what
heaven
has in stock
For this
world can
be misery,
Heaven's
the place to rock
In this
world at
times
you've
to let
the hawk gawk
Knowing
your
tormentor
in
heaven
shall ye mock.

Thus for a
true happy ever after
for an
abode of mirth and laughter
Work towards thy hereafter
A divine place devoid of disaster!
O' God therefore after my death and demise
Do place me in a peaceful palatial paradise.
Profile cover pic represents my Taj mahal poem
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Eloisa
In Time
 Nov 2019 B D Caissie
Eloisa
I am trying to find the proper time to write
the ending that I have tried to forget.
Just allow me to re-read the past chapters that made our story beautiful.
In time, I would be able to transform the pain of our past into a wonderful  epilogue.
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