The poet’s quill scribes a vision of the debutante
as she rests amongst the bluebells
Scattered like jewels over the meadow.

The delicate voice of the robins
Echo through the valley,
Where the gentleman tells of his ardor
As they shelter amongst the weeping willows.

Curls tumble from the confines of her hat,
Parasol tilting to hide girlish blushes,
Careless of her silk skirts
they are crushed, lying as broken rose petals.

She glows with the joy of an un-chaperoned picnic
Scent of cinnamon scrolls tempt her senses,
as her beau offers cider to moisten their suddenly dry throats.

Dapper in his impeccable finery,
Coat tails trailing, crisply starched shirt points lifting his chin,
Top hat tilted at a rakish angle.
Dark eye’s glinting with the thrill of his endeavors.

Sunshine silhouettes the glory of the lovers,
whom the poet has sewn together
as an artist creates a masterpiece.

Each syllable as a brushstroke on canvas.
A Monet made not of oil and brushes,
But ink and parchment.
Every word scribed by the care of the poet,
Transformed within the mind of the reader

The Samurai sword cuts
Through my soul
Each syllable marking a
Swathe through my heart.

Those words
Couched in wellbeing,
laced with malice.

Careless
You seek to heal your pain
By inflicting another.

Fear
For the loss.
Control of another your comfort.
Destroy my heart then oh wise one.
Try if you will,
But remember,
I know!

Your words may hurt but
I am strong
They will not destroy.
I have decreed it so!
Within this lies my strength.

I will not surrender
Nor flee
But  fly.

Beware your weapon yielding
That you cut not your own soul
In two
Beware.

Liquid gold
Flutters in the wind,
Licking the air
With a lovers caress.

Seduction pour’s from each flicker
Captivating, alluring, mesmerizing
Powerful in its very existence
Looking for any way
To spread its wings and conquer.

Sparks its allies.
Offspring in the fight.
Devouring,
Leaving naught in its wake,
But conquered darkness.

Passionate Fury!
Like a roaring lion
Voicing its anger
While beguiling its prey.

Love and fire, bed partners
In their warmth and seduction,
Fury and terror,
Darkness and despair.
KJC (C)

A rainbow is a beauteous thing,
Its wonder we behold!
And ponder if we’d ever find,
The elusive *** of gold.

If it were not for the sunshine,
And the clouds upon the sky.
There would not be such colours,
Such beauty by and by.

There would not be the promise,
That is in every stroke.
There would not be the wonder,
Of the mercy God bespoke.

And how often do we miss it?
The elusive rainbow not see?
And just keep travelling onwards,
That through the *** of gold we would be free.

But freedom comes from the beauty,
Of the sunshine and the clouds.
The journey that we travel,
The joy and troubles found.

They each compliment the other,
Would bring out our true colours see?
And create a beauty more wondrous,
Than any other you would see!

So friend as we would travel,
This journey of our life.
Lets remember the beauteous rainbow,
The promise of eternal life.

Lets know that through our troubles,
We would just require the rain.
And soon will come the sunshine,
To bring out our beauty again.

And through this wondrous beauty,
Others too perhaps may see
The gold is in the rainbow,
The end is where we be.

Reality is drowned beneath the waves.
The bubbling crescendo
Sounding forth its mockery
At my resistance.

Anguished cries are muted
By the vast liquid’s gossamer grasp.
Each arching crest curves around my soul
Cocoon like it entraps me.

Explosive waves roar their obsession.
Each powerful white tipped crest
Rolls with the joy of loves persistent tattoo.

White water propels me headless
Towards destiny’s ocean
Its power rushes through my veins.
Tossing me over the edge of reason
The Tsunami consumes me in its passion.

Heart pounding within my rapturous journey
The water falls away into distant oblivion.
Suddenly I am ****** free of its tenuous hold
It’s vehemence crashing me against the scared shore.
There the marks of our passing remain a constant reminder
Cherished scars to be carried on loves momentous tide

Like a Tsunami come to claim the soul,
Love seeks my full surrender.

Said the Codger in the corner
Of the pub at  Avonlea
“There’s a missus, who I’d kisses
If she’d sit upon me knee”.

“But I’m eighty, like me matey
And I’m too inclined to ***.
So I’ll leave her to another
And keep my faithful Tennessee!”

Said the barman to the Codger
“Well you see here my old friend!
You’ve been sitting in the corner
Since ya leg would no more bend”.

“You’ve been drinkin all me whisky
Yep your love from Tennessee!
Don’t ya know ya have a misses
And she’s looking out for ye.”

Said the Codger to the barman
“Mate now you just let me be
I’ve paid ya all good money
For me love from Tennessee!”.

“And me misses whom I kisses
Who is waiting home for me
Is all weathered, worn and weary
And she naggeth poor old me.”

Said the lady at the counter
Who’d not sit upon his knee.
“Mister if you loved and kissed her
She’d no longer naggeth ye!”

Said the Codger to the lady
“Well Ok! Now let me see
I’d go home to see me misses
But will not leave my Tennessee!”

Each thoughtful pondering
Sliver like descends in inked threads
Removed from within the whirlpool of my mind
To become a living, breathing substance.

Many just cluttered mumblings
Extracted to clear the thoughts and reasoning’s
Of the eccentric soul

Pencieve, I pity you
For now you bear the clutter
That enables poetic inspiration
To bring forth its fruits

Penceive I thank you
For without such as you
True confusion reigns

Kerplop!
Tasty morsel sinks beneath the depths.
Lures with its sparkling promise of tender fruits,
No hint of its hidden ensnarement.
Large eyes ogle the morsel,
Owner biding his time to ensure the promised catch.
Tasty sport to be found here today!
CHOMP!
Got You!
No quick escape for you my tasty morsel!
The thoughts are echoed from above
As the eyes bulge in surprise.
Pain tears through the scaly flesh,
Forgotten in a split second
When unrelenting pressure jerks upwards,
Pulling towards heavens waterless ocean of air.
Oh what snares have trapped me
In my endeavors for a free meal and entertainment?  
What costly price paid for careless satisfaction?
With every powerful swish of my tail I resist,
But soon I am face to face with my captor.
His hungry eyes and fat tummy belie his need to feed.
Take heed the captor who would become captive  
Take heed lest you become someone else’ sport.

Oh summer where have you gone?
Blistery cold is un-banished
By your amorous flirtations
Rain and cold permeate my being
Causing me to ponder your fickle nature

Your face hidden in feminine fancy
Oh summer I am your true love
Withhold not your charms from me
With one smile
You can banish the gloom forever.

The surface rippled
Winds breath blow in mesmerizing waves  
Alive with a mind of its own

Each fluid crest
Curves, arches, froths
Into a Kaleidoscope of movement

Its white frothy plumes lapping the surface
Tenderly caressing the golden sand
Stroking with love
Changing with its touch

The moist spray wafts over the rocks
Moistening with its presence
Spurting upwards against each resistance

Woman like it moves with a mind of its own
Unpredictable, beautiful, miraculous
Its aqua marine depths reflecting light and color    
Each different shade accented
By the white tip of its wind blown surface

Untold stories of its endless travels lie
Buried within the sand tossed particles of the ocean floor
This living, breathing, creature
Who can understand its ways?

Blades of sharpest steel pierce me
Until my soul is numbed
By man and natures cures

I see not around me
Those also torn and broken
Within their watchful despair.

I see not that if I were observing
The destructive writhing agony
Of  those who hold my heart

I too would be more broken
Than even now in my careless
Wasteful destruction.

I see not that I wrench the heart from my loved ones,
With my blind endeavors to **** my pain,
In my struggle for survival.

I see not that I would move heaven and earth
To mend their pain
If I were the observer.

Numbed within my cave
I see nothing but cold,
Lonely despair
And darkness.

The web entangles the creature.
Small and helpless
It remains stuck in its sticky cloak

Prodded and poked by his captor
Tormented until longing for release
Whether it be in death....
Or freedom

Knowing only that this is no way to live
And yet, live it will
Each day growing not weaker
But stronger
In its need for freedom....
Or escape.

Until one day
Those sticky threads will be broken
And the creature can fly free
And thrive.

Those shining threads will trail
like ribbons
Banners to the escape
Testament to the struggle
A forever reminder
Of the web.