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Dec 2020 · 118
You've got mail
White Wolf Dec 2020
There's a green twig in my soup!

With six crimson leaves to boot.

So I stirred and I stirred, to no avail,
whilst poets would send me mail.

I swear that I have no recipe,

For the oddest reason gets the best of me.

So I blew and I blew until it was cool,
For folly is the way to make happy this fool.

As history is no friend of mine,

All my soup needed was a touch of lime.
Jul 2020 · 146
Love's Lake
White Wolf Jul 2020
As the eagle replenished his soul in the lake of love,
observing his own image he also saw the image of a salmon
which began to dive deeper, so the eagle took chase.

As the salmon was too quick and agile for him,
he still persisted pursuing the salmon.

Until finally the eagle had swum far too deep to make it back
to the surface for air.

Having realised this, the salmon then faced the eagle and gave him the kiss of life.

The eagle returned safely to the surface exhausted and had to float for quite some time to regain his breath.

Just then the salmon approached the eagle and flopped on his back.
So he flew low to the water until the salmon returned to its homeland, the lake.

To this day the eagle often returns to this lake in hope of seeing his special friend.

After years of doing so, the eagle realised that it's not the salmon that saved him, but the renewal of the lake of love itself.
Metaphor, analogy
Mar 2020 · 195
Walking through time
White Wolf Mar 2020
I hear

The footprints near

And feel their beating heart

Not knowing their distant remarks

Now past
Dec 2019 · 414
Love, known & unknown
White Wolf Dec 2019
As the trees' shiver with delight
at the fresh autumn breeze,
The cycle of life has met his match with her.

Her cloak now adorned with all
the fallen acorns,
while gently the sun abates
for less to see.

Its sensual warmth no longer felt
by lovers in fields.
Unaware of the web of love,
I allowed my heart to falter.

Now struggling in a world so cold,
I fall.
I fall grasping for breath that
perhaps may fill me with
the joy I once knew.
Recently having my heart broken, I write this for all those.
Nov 2019 · 161
Upon reflection
White Wolf Nov 2019
It was the way we were back in the day;
Uncertain times unknown how things would go.
Like a flash, so quickly our youth would pay,
One would lead and the others would follow.

Oh, sweet youth, how I miss thee and thy sprite,
Always you showed me the path was my own.
Never in fear of landing whilst in flight,
Continued soaring where no one had flown.

In these days now I look back with contempt,
I've not aged with grace but instead, I've faced,
The facts of life which I will now attempt
To make more sense in my age than to waste.

'Tis not the path we're on or how it's known,
It's making it yours whilst it's overgrown.
Attempted sonnet
Nov 2019 · 174
Frozen in the moment
White Wolf Nov 2019
As I watched her dance in the firelight,
hypnotised by her every move that night.

The intensity of the flames seemed to
illuminate her expressions from her lips
to her hips.

Filled with consternation as she approached
and acknowledged my gaze,
but fixed was my eyes on her beauty.

Something about the night's background
infused with flames in my peripheral vision
that she seemed to float on air.

Either way, I was no longer in the
physical realm.

Now, my anxiety had turned to utter calmness,
it was as though our spirits had met before!

Frozen in the moment, I watched,
I saw before me a kindred soul.

All that existed was this new-founded
connection.
Sep 2019 · 335
Do with Heart
White Wolf Sep 2019
If only for a moment our love bloomed,
If only for a spell we would consume.
My heart torn open I bear a deep wound,
To be thy Sun and you to be my Moon.

Alas, my dear, we were not meant to be,
For there is no future for us at all.
But, don't read into my words completely,
Because I still answer to nature's call.

Does a flower turn its petals away
In the day when the Sun is out to shine?
For what is the reason that children play?
The reason that the poet writes his line?

We know deep inside, we all must take part,
And whatever that may be, do with heart!
10 syllables per line, sonnet.
Aug 2019 · 286
Carry my soul
White Wolf Aug 2019
Sound
Once more
Thy Trumpets
Sweet    melody
To my ears this night
Carry my soul upwards
To  the  ethereal   sphere
Where I shall reside for a time
As  a traveller of  the   cosmos
In harmony with The All and divine
Etheree
Aug 2019 · 344
Lovers' Feast
White Wolf Aug 2019
Passions burn in the depth of night,
Lovers yearning to be entwined,
Against the wind these birds own flight,
A trail hidden it's hard to find.

Emotions soar high out of sight,
As love explodes in hearts so warm,
They hold each other close and tight,
Embraced they lay in loving form.

This is how love can be for most,
Ever daunting to say the least,
But when it's found it's grandiose,
So succulent the lovers' feast.

In their arms lie and be adored,
And feel the fires as they once roared.


(Eight syllables per line)
Aug 2019 · 162
Fragile Heart
White Wolf Aug 2019
Fragrant like the rose in bloom,
Reluctant is the wild stallion.
Amongst the flowers in the spring,
Gleefully skipping like a child.
Illustrious thou art that fragile heart.
Liken the swan compared to geese,
Elegant, graceful, splendid and kind.

Hearing your heartbeat soft in rhyme,
Eagerly it races on lover's approach.
Artfully elusive, beyond response.
Reddish hue, your face blushes too,
Timid I see, your heart pumps free.
Aug 2019 · 320
Touch
White Wolf Aug 2019
Thoughts of you flood my mind, as I think of you
Often in a daydream, now, I realize my
Undying love for you has no bounds.
Captivated in your every word, I
Hear the melody of angels in your voice.
Aug 2019 · 204
Lady Typhoon
White Wolf Aug 2019
Tempestuous gales imbued the horizons about
Thunder and lightning charged the dense sky
Watching shards of a rainbow swiftly fleeing
Flashing blacks and greys permeates the eye

Indeed, the heavens were vexed with rage
Hearken to the voices of the gods this day
Echoing through the mountains and valleys alike
There was no denying this mighty display

Expeditiously it came, like a furious beast
With a hefty breath, it suddenly dissipated
It was as if, the gods had been satisfied
Some way or another, they had been compensated

Within a heartbeat, the birds took flight again
Flying in the wind, for now, they were immune
The elements now all calm, brewing in their guise
Don't play with this woman, she's a wild typhoon
Excuse me for being so verbose!
Aug 2019 · 577
Blue Daisy
White Wolf Aug 2019
Lay forth in front of me my will and soul
To speak of such things to occur are told
I, therefore seek refuge amongst the wild
Now turning my attention to myself

As I have come into this world alone
I've made and lost close friends along the way
Always shall we move through this universe
In constant rest, nothing is motionless

Come hail or shine we will remain in time
A blue daisy, my love, I offer you
On each petal, I leave a kiss come true
Don't search for my heart for I've lost it now

A new day shall dawn for you and your life
And new memories be made just for you
Never realizing life's the real dream
As one petal falls a new one shall grow
My attempt at iambic pentameter. Not perfect.
White Wolf Aug 2019
Ghostly graves haunting the youth

As they fear more life than death

Too afraid to dig their own

Hole, where they shall lay
I don't usually do Japanese forms of poetry, but sometimes I dodoitsu.
Aug 2019 · 161
The climax
White Wolf Aug 2019
Elegant frequent interludes
Ebony and ivory harmonized
The maestro raises his hands
A single note from a violin

Reverberates the soul within
Piano keys dance the storm
Conductor's baton waves the way
The orchestra now as one

Vibrations pounding in my heart
Sweet cellos and harps sing
Two dueling clarinets take front stage
Silhouetted angels fill the mind

As the beating of timpanis start
A fluttering flute swiftly flies
With dulcet melodies swirling about
A double bass begins the final coda

Then blissfully, I open my eyes
As I strum my guitar, I wonder, how far?
Aug 2019 · 242
Dawn of the Robin
White Wolf Aug 2019
The Wren may be many a thing,
but has it heard the Robin sing?

Both a sight to set your eyes upon,
with their gifts of song before they're gone.

Waking me up at the break of day,
first I heard the Wren in his dismay.

"I fly in all three worlds, I'll take you there,
I share my lore with all who's fair."

So I followed the Wren into the woods of old,
entered a sacred circle to join their fold.

This path I've chosen was walked by few,
only to learn that the Robin also knew!

* * * * * * *

Each bird has its song
and if you hearken long

It becomes thy own
now another is known
The Wren's nest is the Druid's nest. /|\
Aug 2019 · 220
A smile appeared
White Wolf Aug 2019
Silently, I sat by,

To listen to the sounds of the world,

Of all the voices that touched me most,

Were those caught in the angelic wind.

For all things have a voice,

And the voice for all things speaks through the wind,

So, silently I sat and listened.

With the salty taste of a tear

As it touched my upper lip,

A smile appeared.

All the while the wind kept blowing,

Secret after secret, revealing to me,

If only I could comprehend its wisdom.

But that is half the allure,

Happy I am just to hear it blow,

And acknowledge its influence over my spirit.

The wind has taught me many things,

Though, I cannot speak for the wind,

Instead, let it speak for me.
The only sounds I hear, are the wind's whispers in my ears!
Aug 2019 · 161
Forsooth
White Wolf Aug 2019
In a world ruled by gods and men,
who holds in their hand nature's pen?

When words are smitten to deaf ears,
dost one conclude their deepest fears?

Thy skilled soothsayer is portrayed,
as nothing more than a beggar paid.

A wandering derelict of the past,
his bardic tongue now shall avast.

On a park bench, he sleeps at night,
oft Poe's "The Raven" he does recite.

'Tis thy chilly nights he dreads the most,
so in his prose, he gets engrossed.

The birds doth come and hearken in,
as he weaves his tales and rhymes within.

This man was once like you and me,
so sad this world could never see.
Aug 2019 · 159
All is mind
White Wolf Aug 2019
To the wilting flower, I give no sympathy,
Or the blooming of a bud does not interest me.

Nor the stem that gives it birth,
or even its bed, the earth.

No colour scheme captures my eye,
from its beauty, I shall not sigh.

Through all the seasons that we face,
we are one with time and space.

So in my thoughts, I remain aware,
of my consciousness I take care.

Understanding emotions are fleeting,
analyze the flower as part of life's greeting.

Be the river that comes and goes,
divert into outlets as it flows.

Be the desert but not the storms,
watch the oasis as it forms.

— The End —