It was late to go out, about ten o’clock.
The sky, it was clear, every star was in sight.
I was taking a stroll down our city block,
When I came upon something strange in the night.

Dark and soundless it crouched there, looking at me.
All I saw were two spots reflecting the light -
Of the streetlamp behind me; where eyes would be.
Tucked away near the steps, it gave me a fright!

I heard a strange sound. Something started to knock.
I started to praying – “Lord, save my life, please!”
Jumped, nearly tumbling, at the strike of the clock!
The knocking turned out to be from my own knees.

That creature, it stayed there, not moving a bit.
But there I stood frozen, as still as a tree.
I wanted to bolt, to avoid being hit -
By what evil sat soundless, staring at me.

I watched it, too helpless to fend for myself.
Then a low sound, like moaning, came from the thing -
Moving into the light, it looked like an elf.
It didn’t take long for my feet to take wing.

My hands, so clammy, my heart started to pound.
I found myself running ahead of the breeze!
To home. Lock the doors. In my room, safe and sound!
Sweet home! I relaxed, became calm by degrees.

Sleep finally took me away from my fright.
I had to see, for curiosity’s sake -
Everything looks different in the morning light.
I was glad that morning, to just be awake.

Cleaned up in a hurry. Got dressed. Took a walk.
Passed by Widow Jones, all in black with that hat.
What happened last night was the neighborhood talk.
Widow Jones saw it all from where she had sat!

I thought, “I’ll look silly. I jumped and I ran.”
“I hope Widow Jones didn’t see what I did.”
She had chased off an evil looking dark man -
He’d come at her slowly, to where she was hid.

Seems that the sweet widow felt lonely that eve -
Had sipped too much sherry before that night’s stroll.
Sat down by her stoop-steps, her head to her sleeve.
Asleep in the dark, her hat looked like a troll!

This may seem a good end, but better than that –
Since all that has happened, we’ve had some long talks.
And I’ve been so thankful for that ugly hat.
We go with each other for all of our walks.

Lin Cava

It is that time of year again
when dark of night
like black and white -
and winter’s frosty breath lays claim
to landscapes washed in moonlight’s pall
both high and low
as dark and glow -
stark scene, upon the eyes and mind.

Soon to come, the snowbound hours
captured and held
tie and then geld
to suit his need, his want, his will
when the season’s only color
splash, hot and red
cries, left unsaid
swift, nay, merciful end of one.

Awake, awake my chosen mate
to fly with me
behold in glee
new mysteries unseen this life
does hold for one in interest new
and greet the dew
to be with you…
He has returned to stake his claim.

Lin Cava

Etta James, singing “At Last” behind me now,
lights turned low, ******* of Drambuie on ice
the air carries the aroma of desert roses,
green fern and damp mossy bark; the gift of a posy.

The scent reminds me of the quick light rains
tapping in the afternoon, making love to thirsty
new greens, coaxing them up to reach for more.
My body reacts to the thought, arching up.

Sips of warming golden liquid, the cold ice
a give-and-take of restrained contrast,
until the liquid has all been consumed –
and the ice remains, bearing the spirit upon it.

Contributions to reflections in sensuality,
The ice, captured up quickly from the glass
held in deft fingers, neatly, to paint their
cold upon my lips, sipped within a warm mouth.

The cold, diminished cube, dances on the tongue.
I rise; the glass left behind, and come to you –
Face to face, eye to eye.  The kiss shares the cool
as the ice passes between us, to melt in loves flame.

Eyes close, now drinking in another kiss,
I feel myself surrender to the flame that rises up.
Once more I am arching within your arms,
strong, gentle hands contain me, stoking the fire.

I am released, free to feel all that is within –
to bring it to the surface; without question - to share…
The heady scent of longing fills me, fueling passion
The ice, a forgotten prelude to love’s rendezvous.

Lin Cava ©

Before they fought, they had simple lives.
Remember them, their loves and their wives.
Others they served and many came home.
They parted from service but went on alone.
Heroes; the wounded, the brave or the scared
Each one fighting hard, standing tough, as he dared.
Returned to their homes, they remember alarms;
Soldiers they served with, their Brothers In Arms.

Into their minds, memories battle their war.
Now home in safety, miss them once more.

All go into battle, braced for the fight
Remember their Brothers In Arms in the night.
Memorial Day calls them, witness to bear -
Such Brothers In Arms, they will always be there.

Lin Cava©