Water  rushing  down  the  drains.
And  through  windswept  country  lanes.

Trees  brushing  water  away  with  their  leaves.
Birds  sheltering  under  the  eaves.

Pools  on  the  lawn  appear.
It,s  a  dreadful  night  I  fear.

Pitch  black  little  to  see.
A  new  day  may  set  us  free.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

There,s  a  chill  in  the  air.
I  just  felt  it  out  there.
Autumn  introducing  Itself.
The  sun  came  out
for  a  fleeting  moment.
Then  it  turned
suddenly  chilly  again.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2016.

I feel the heat
                 upon my neck
                  sparking fire,
                   just a peck
                     liberated,
                 what the heck
                    kissing lips
                 & moving hips
                  touching me
                with fingertips
                hot and steamy,
                 & very dreamy
                   skin of gold
                smooth & creamy
                  inked in breath
                 & just like death,
                come to take me
                 then forsake me
                  words you utter,
                make me shudder                
                     afterthoughts
                 a coming morning
                   & even though
                 ample warning
                  your way inside,
                   you are horning
                      romancing
                of the coming reaper
                   our feelings go,
                   so much deeper
                       not so much,
                 a peaceful sleeper
                      cannot wait
                    or take a pause
                   surgery needed
                     for the cause
                     releasing me,
                    a lovely clause
                    plunging knife,
                      causing pain
                       cutting out
                      the ugly vein
                      taking hold,
                   a waving mane
                      telling me,
                    familiar songs
                     come inside
                 where you belong
                       even if,
               they think it wrong
                darkened hearts,
                 climbing walls
                  a melancholy
                   southern drawl
                   like a wanting
                    Vodoo doll
                 pounding sound
                 inside your chest
                    Am I cursed
                 or am I blessed?
             buried in a loamy nest
              heart arrhythmia
                   taking start
                 take a blade,
                 remove my heart
                    taking love
                    & pull apart
                  I hold it beating
                     in my hands
                   relieved at last
                   of its demands
                   as shadows fall
                   low in the deep
                   of promises
                   we'll never keep
                    curling toes,
                   as blood it seeps
             colored in cascading red
                 of endless nights
                     that I have bled
              laid at last, telluric bed
                   I'm melting slow
                   into your arms
                     dissolved into
                the haunting charms
                       glad that I,
                  just bit the farm
                        lying in
                   a field of wheat
                    covered by
                  my linen sheets
                    a **** place
                    for us to meet
                     & burning
                 in the guilty heat
                I'll write you here,
                 inside my room
                    skies apart,
                 forgiving gloom
                     push aside
                 impending doom
                 or what dangers
                   wait & loom
                 I wait for death
                    & love
                    ...to bloom

                Cherie Nolan © 2016

Alas fair Barns, draped b'twixt gilded gold,
sat on underground for riches untold.
Defense of the Nation'list he began
While scorning folks faces glazed'n'deadpan;
Fair Barns did muster up afearful roar
He'd told it once, Now he'd tell it once more:
Since the dawn of us, in modest abode
Have suffered missed hours, suffered plans unsowed
These pesky tube drivers, hath goest to
The deep pits of Hades, not yonder blue!
The storm he musterd set Aeneas to flight
As river of Tiberius sowed sweet delight.
The sybilline wisdom he did doth bear
Got him kicked off, without said recompence fare.