What a screecher,
matinee double feature
of those dark creatures
that chase a female
cause they
plan to eat her.

Some secret
armored ghost
from Jupiter,
or sea beast
from 20 leagues
further below
the oceanic flow.

Not too costly
to see those grossly
violent films.

Those hacked up teen dreams,
those queens of scream,
poor things,
what bad luck
to get stuck
in those movies.

Would have been
so groovy for them
if they could have been in
a romantic comedy,
or family drama.

Would have been safe
cause nobody would have
chased them
and one hour to two
equals a happy ending
for the whole world to view.

Too bad they got put in
a terrible slasher sequel.

Before stiff frost of winter melted to spring dew,
That was when I met you.
Windy gusts of goosebumps to fill the air
Making my arms stippled wings,
Almost ready to fly.
You wove me through the winds of those westward peaks.
Through sugar dusted days,
you were quickly woven in me.

My life's fabric,
newly adorned with the imprint of you-
A colorful, bright adornment to a darker whole.

The frost did melt,
And the river began to flow,
Your promising path was dealt.
And while you sailed away, the rains came, dropping silently from blue eyes
Slowly feeding the river.

It wasn't until the last drop of rain fell
That I noticed my wings
Full of life, renewed in strength and vigor
It was then I realized
You were my catalyst
For my own flight

While others fastened anchors to me,
Freedom was your gift

And with gratitude
The sea bird flies
Hoping to reach the mouth of the river
That carried you

Terrible
wind
tendrils
touched
the rocky shore
pushing for
more punishing
waves to splash
against the caverns
down below.

While
a mile
above and away
rough wet bark
bit the unwitting
runner’s
already sweat
moistened skin.

Farther away
but on the same day
a sweet white stallion
shuffled and neighed
stomping proudly
on parade
to display
a light blue mane.

Till, the blue moon came
to collect
the remnants
of the day,
letting all things settle
into their
proper place,
as winds died,
the tree breathed
its evening breath,
and the horse spied
the perfect place
to rest,
so, it could play
tomorrow

Reflected in
my imagination
was a face
I dreamed of facing,
with eyes of
emerald fire
to spark
an unspoken
token of
desire.

So, by a cool
pool of blue
rippling water
I sat pondering
the squandering
of precious
moon kissed
lips.

She waits
in water
wading in
a vision
of a wet shirt
that wrinkles
and clings
desirously
to her
angelic body,
just like
the thin strands
of long
brown hair
that lay
against
her face
and slide
down the side
of her temples
to settle
on her collar.

Goddess
of the water,
leaves me wanting,
to be consumed
by her blooms
to be devoured
by the reflection
of the moon
in her eyes.

Though, I yearn
to touch and burn
in passion’s fury
she is more
then a thousand miles
removed from me,
becoming
a fantasy
that I will dream of
but never meet.

It’s the end of time.
So, I got a month  
to employ
all the toys
you enjoy.

There will be
no guarantee
for a future
society.

So, I take it
one day
at a time
while you
stray
I still find
a bit of fun.

All the work
that you did
for the things
that you get
doesn’t
really mean
****
in the end.

So,
I smile
while I can,
I know
you don’t
understand
but I only get
this one chance
to live.

Pretty pink fingers
play the ivories
that speak to me.

They used to move
more than mere thoughts.
Now, they bend me
more generously
to old aching memories.

Soft concerto,
like the fluttering
of ornate
butterfly wings
going up,
up, up,
and away
to the blinding sun.

Till, the glare
of time
takes each chorus;

Till, the piano
loses all its keys,
and all those
lovely reminiscence
are locked
away from me
for eternity.

Goddess of ice and steel,
she laid there
and slumbers still.

No longer needed
to retain
the powerful sword
for the
once and future King.

She snoozes
At the bottom,
mud laden dress
cluttered about
her cold pale legs,
turning to tatters
while she remains
unaged.

Once there was
a shimmering blade
that made her great
while she waited.
Now there is nothing
but wet dreams
of wizards and kings
marking unconscious time’s
passing.

No purpose
is everlasting
though she may be.

They found that lady
a millennium
or more
after the great wars,
settled like sediment
on the lake bottom,
still sleeping
while they were draining it.

It took the
ancient yellow papyrus
and crumbled it into dust
costing us
the knowledge of
less familiar ages.

It erases
all the old angles
of ancient angels
that were painted
in sainted style
on chapel ceilings.

It saw small framed
dancing beauties
that grew up
and rounded out
shrivel
back in
bringing
sad tidings
of losses
soon to come,

and in the midst
of this movement,
no more tragic
for the transient
nature of all of it,

I let it linger,
just a little longer
as the last sandy bits
slip
from my fingertips;

See it fade
in the distant.
Until, it comes
to take me as well.

Parents Evening;
At the tender age of two,
What will they tell me,
about you?
From the beginning,
You sat there - legs swinging.
Posture slouched,
Lips placed in pout.
You looked at me,
With A smile so sweet.
Then glanced across,
Towards the empty seat.
You fidgeted you fiddled,
You picked and you nibbled.
Your teacher entered,
And she read,
Your report that clearly said -
Ava is A lovely girl,
Who speaks so well!
When in defence,
She can raise hell.
So kind to her friends, and shares a treat!
She rather has a stubborn streak.
To summarise, without much time,
Your daughter is doing perfectly fine!
I looked towards my little girl,
Our thoughts linked, our eyes synced,
So we could swap our secret smile,
For she truly is - Me as A child.