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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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And the waves crash down on a distant shore,
as worlds collide in a dramatic final encore,
a panic birthing universe, the original sacred chao,
bellicose suns carve furrows like a plough,
seed stars ******* from the maelstroms core,
illuminating that which was not there before.

The universe is a cell inhabiting a bigger store,
a microcosmic component born and newly restored,
internal explosions of chemistry creating divisions,
warping space about ideas, moulding time's schisms,
imagining life as the accident of a misplaced spore,
as the waves crash down on a distant shore.


© Pagan Paul (24/02/18)
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chao (pronounced cow) = A single unit of chaos
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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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She knows her love will never return,
so through the wind she softly calls,
her leap of faith was grace magnificent,
her ghost still walks the castle walls.
The forest below wails sylvan grief,
at the end of a life so sweetly pure,
a Springtime leaf fall marks the day,
when Lady Amarylis breathed no more.
A single rose now spends its days
beneath the walls its love displayed,
and come the wind it gently sways,
hoping to catch that faraway call,
perchance to answer with tidings sore,
The Lady Amarylis breathes no more.



© Pagan Paul (24/02/18)
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Conclusion to poem Lady Amarylis.
https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2355525/lady-amarylis/
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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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She kneaded her dill dough.
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© Pagan Paul (04/02/18)
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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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I could kiss you through the words of a rhyme,
letters delivered with tender exquisite affection,
each syllable a moisture drop on delicate lips,
velvet verse licking porcelain, tasting perfection.

Stanzas saturated with the metaphors of love,
dripping salaciously upon your excited sighs,
I kiss your lips through the words of a rhyme
as they glisten like a jewel between your thighs.



© Pagan Paul (20/02/18)
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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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Walk toward the North,
your foot falls on solid Earth,
be sure of your way.

Fly away off East,
you are floating on the Air,
be sure of your wings.

Take a trip down South,
you are playing with Fire,
be sure of your skills.

Swim far to the West,
the sun sets over calm Water,
be sure of your flow.

Stand within Yourself,
connect the inner Spirit,
be sure of all things.


© Pagan Paul (20/02/18)
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Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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She walks the castle walls at night,
with a rose held fast in her fingers,
the mist rolls away across the land,
the memory of her lover still lingers.

Cold flagstones beneath her slippered feet
hold the histories of the aeons tight.
Old battles, wars, and terrifying sieges,
ghosts of ancient warriors wail in the night.

And still she clutches his parting gift,
she wears the bond burden of his ring,
his love weighs upon her broken heart,
tears flow free with a melancholic sting.

They fall upon the stones and disappear,
additions to the heavy tomes of history,
little gems writing sadness in a story,
as she stares into the distance so wistfully.



© Pagan Paul (10/02/18)
Pagan Paul Feb 2018
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I travelled the lands out to the West,
of all the cities I am most impressed,
with Melk, by mountains and sea it rests,
ruled by the Queen, Lyenna of Cressed.

Her beauty is famed throughout the land,
with many suitors for her vacant hand,
none of whom will ever understand,
she will marry only her own hearts plan.

I met Lyenna in her Palace of Green,
and my eyes saw beauty they had never seen,
so mysterious and delicate this foreign Queen,
seductive and distant with charms unseen.

Invited to an audience within the walls,
how could I not reply to this royal call,
these affairs tend towards a chaotic squall,
a chance to meet a Queen in her Great Hall.

“Lord Pagan of Poetica, I'm pleased to meet you,
its so nice for me to personally greet you”.
Her soft voice designed just to defeat you,
her ravishing beauty on show to unseat you.

With reddened cheeks I was able to say
“Its my pleasure indeed to meet you this day,
though the ground is cold and the sky is grey,
your presence brings the warm sun my way”.

My charm raised a blush and a smile,
she was happy to tarry with me awhile,
in the gardens we must have walked a mile,
her suitors barely concealing jealousy and bile.

Then Queen Lyenna whispered a secret to me,
she was waiting for a man from across the sea,
until he came she would hold on with assurity,
to her chastity, her love and her purity.

Her confidence in me was by no means assuaged,
but her secret I keep dear like an animal caged,
as deep within a raw and primal fire still raged,
I felt this moment could not have been better staged.

Her shy request to become my lover,
gifting to me what she would give no other,
my desire and lust I could no longer cover,
my heart was hers, no longer for another.

Disillusioned with the men in her land,
refusing them all she had made her stand,
not acquiescing to what her father planned,
the smile in her eyes said “I've got my man”.


From 'Selected Works'
by Lord Pagan of Poetica


© Pagan Paul (08/02/18)
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