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Peter J May 2022
I’d never noticed the blemish before
Right there by the dew on her thigh
I’d never noticed it before even close
But then who leaves the light on.
#lets see where it goes
#caru mawr
#truffles and milk
Peter J Feb 2022
I’m that hungry with love for you
That I would eat you all up
Particularly your dessert
In perfect harmony
I’d leave the cream pie
Until last.
#hungry like a wolf
#desserts backwards is stressed
#diamonds and pearls
#from a boy to a girl.
Peter J Oct 2021
I know where you live
You live at the end of the sea.
All the way to uncharted waters
And undreamt shores
Then I who is of this colour.
Circles you count from a solitary pebble.
I who wave after wave surrendered to your insatiable Jade
He who waited to be mounted in patient stillness an uncalming beast.
I know where you live.
You live at the end of the sea.
I haven’t been on here for a while.
I’m sat out on the patio listen to the October leaves rustling in the breeze and a warm sun belies this cold air.
Just thought of someone and here I am at the other end of the sea. Ar lan y Môr x
Peter J May 2020
The slow slow flow
of the Afon Lwyd
With it's fragrance from
rain soaked azalea.

A clap of thunder
rolls across the Mynyd Maen
then rests up on its tremulous tip.

And there where the scent
from my life's earth breath
leaves me before warm storms
rain forces my eyes closed.

For I am not Obed-Edom
and I find no favour
from touching
the Ark of God.
#just messing around while looking at the storm clouds forging my mountain.
Peter J Feb 2019
How will you remember me,
will you form my shape as is my way,
my veins swollen with a veiled rejoice
that hides my burial chamber beneath
a shrouded veil of contempt.
Who will remember me?
A fighting roaring man drunk as sand
an outside storm that weathered faces
in a rising sky full of snow horsemen,
that draw your eyes upwardly
then fall below their peculiar time.

How shall I be remembered?
A lover that blazed a trail every midnight,
he that stole and sold hearts in a single beat,
fashionable runt, cool in summers heady days
that ran from a friends sisters bed before her age.
Who would remember?
The love the labour the sweat
the boundless hours working for cruel light,
a family pace of a snails want
that sweet cruel need that never shy’s
and I am bound by my fragile word.

My brother, my sisters voices I hear with a clear ring
gutted on cold stone ground in frost
and I knew love before my maidens mouth
whispered through thickets of thorns and bramble.
Who will remember them?
It’s the breath from those that rant,
clergymen with fierce eyes that talk in fondness,
yet would perish when their birds fly unknown
before deaths curtain is closed and comital spoke.
Lost in my map, my life, my day in poise.

Now I sigh long into the day.
My steepled church sky soars far above me
and days grow shorter with every passing mouth.
Saints and sinners ride together in fallen flames as I look for an open eye in this mudded rockpool water.
And I remember;
with long armed embrace
that I kissed maidens lips
when they were young with starry eyes
and was carefree with strong clasp of bone
and in this third season fall Autumn was taught that forever was my sea, but a few hours between.
All this long before my grave and dying light.
#ive reposted this because I heard today  the girl I mention has passed away.
RIP Mags, I  wish I had been brave  for you ***
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