The ***** and the Lady
walked into town
She from the north
He from the south
She passed the boutiques
He passed the bars
She seemed like Venus
He was more like Mars

By chance they met in the park
On a warm winter day
She was feeling lonely
He with so much to say
They sat side by side
Beneath a worn out tree
She spoke of a broken heart
He talked of his life at sea

He learned of her way of life
How she’d been told to smile a fake smile
To marry a man for money
to keep her family within their style
She learned he wasn’t a ***, that he’d fought wars and saved many lives
How he couldn’t face the day light
So usually appeared at night

She asked how it was that today
He decided to strole in the park
He said he’d dreamt of a woman
Alone with a broken heart
The dream had told him to go
to the place that he felt most at ease
He knew just where the dream meant,
walking within the trees

They talked and found that their loneliness
Was different but also the same
She was surrounded by people
He was surrounded by pain
They decided that day to change this
And make up for all the lost years
They’d been given a second chance of love
To smile true and dry up their tears.

The ***** and the lady got married
And rented a flat by the park
No longer did they suffer from loneliness
They had each other
And warm happy hearts

thy ice by fire mine melts
to a blaze ye and I ignite
mine soul on fire is
as truth in lies may freeze
lies with truth is firestorm
Well ye left me behind lit
at glory's blaze afire
as for me ye did freeze
and mine fire dimed down
at your departure's grief
Aries in April's daisy
t'was fire mine abirthday gift
of special blaze a trail
the Ice of thee afire I defrost
melting thine frozen heart
with grace of truth in poem
steamming thee
to meet again
as one afire
BLAZE
-~~~~~~~~
By Karijinbba
Inspired by Robert Frost.

You can take the heart out of the girl,
.
.
.
But please give it back.
She needs it.
She needs it to feel.
Without it,
How can she love?
How can she be loved?
It's been so long,
Since she felt something real.
Since she was surrounded by people.
People who cared.
She can't do it alone anymore.
She's waiting for her one day.
So take it.
Take her heart,
But please, I'm begging you to give it back.

.
Through a forest glade
and down a narrow path
there stands a sacred tree
with its heart torn in half.

Bramble clings to its trunk
ivy covers over its bark,
reaching up for the light
fighting against the dark.

Forgotten by the woods,
ignored in a crowded place,
for it yearns for attention,
just a little tender grace.


© Pagan Paul (27/06/19)

.
All was quiet
the Lord and Lady retired,
courtiers all gone to bed,
the Great Hall silent.
Hounds slumberingly snored
next to the dying embers
of a cooling Inglenook,
occasional crackles popping
as the heat catches wood resin,
it splatters and dies.
A lute lays idle
amongst the mess of banquet
as a lonely secretive figure
detaches from the shadows,
prowling through the detritus.
Slim fingers pick up the lute
and gently strums a chord,
the Minstrel exits stage left,
to compose and construct
new songs and ribald stories
from this nights celebrations.
Retiring to his chamber
his eyes stare balefully
at an uneaten bowl of stew,
the gruel of his station,
a metaphor for the content
of a nearby journal,
closed but waiting,
for a quill rich in ink
to fill its void
with the musings of a Fool.


© Pagan Paul (26/06/19)