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Avalon's Respite Dec 2015
Passion upon a rocky stream...
youthful expectation of a dueling fray.
Slip-bobber swirls within random eddies
induced from a bottle of Southern Comfort
tossed with wayward abandon.

Time passes...hopeful dream dies.

Enticed by a liaison with greener grass.
She swims with lazy nonchalance,
in shallow recesses naked to my sight.
Dining upon her own chosen array.
Casting off the feast I hold before her.

Something fishy going on here!


© S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved
Avalon's Respite Dec 2015
You willingly enter my domain...
my chamber of decadent delights.
Your submission and fate sealed
with your own hands as you
tighten the necklace of servitude
around your delicate throat.

The lash is kissed with my love for you.
Its harsh caress your sweet desire.
Ropes bind your kneeling form.
Restricting even your rising passion.
For your pleasure is mine to allow...
or to deny.

Trust to me your mind and your flesh.
Follow my lead...
as I train you to walk the swords sharp edge.
Balancing between a path of pain or certain ecstasy.

Freely given, I take all that you offer
returning everything which you seek.

©S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved
Avalon's Respite Dec 2015
Ravaging dank night
rapes last rays of light.
Silver stream of ribbon moon
casting shadows of fear and doom.

Grasping firm to hope's faint call.
Await dawn's lifting of night's cruel shawl.
Reveals "My Love's", anticipating gaze.
First kiss embracing boundless days.

© S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved
Avalon's Respite Nov 2015
I:
Did he know,
gazing within
the first morning’s
reflection of the mirror?

The world was ruled with rapacious greed.
Could he...a simple carpenter’s son hold reign?
Rivaling concepts of malice and hate
with only a vision of righteousness.

What might have been if faith had turned
that one lonely night, praying in the garden?
All we now treasure and know
not lost... simply never learned.

But his belief held fast.
Even as the nails pierced his waiting wrists,
and the breath was filched from offered breast.
His tendered flesh drained of life's essence.

And the world’s foundation shook
from this one man’s belief.
“Most cherished of all ‘The Father’s’ gifts, is Love".
"Love even your enemy...your own butchers.”

Perhaps he knew from the mirror’s silent stare.
But I think not.

II:
Did he know, gazing within
the morning’s first reflection of the mirror?

This man condemned God‘s chosen few.
****** them with imperfect ideals of superiority.
Hegemonies, spawned from purely selfish desire.
Built upon altars of blackened bone,
stained with the purified  blood of unnamed martyrs.

Animating his belief with the potency of his voice
and the putrid breath from chambers of death.
His dream blossomed from a nightmare‘s blackened shade.
Millions died as millions more bewailed their loss.

And the world turned once again.
Its very bedrock forever tarnished red.
For this one man’s beliefs were embraced
within vows thought sacred by the masses.

Never again quite the same.
Just one man’s pronouncement of a claimed truth.
“All the problems of the world lie at the feet of the Jews.
Destroy them and all life’s trials will be resolved.”

Perhaps he knew from the mirror’s silent stare.
But I think not.

III:
Should I know, gazing within
the first morning’s reflection of the mirror?

Our world cries for one man’s envisioning truth.
We search to understand the differences,
and to find the similarities amongst us,
before a tired Earth exhales one final breath.

An angel of mercy, hope, and salvation.
Or a demon seeking power,
returning only horror and death.

Fate beckons with a satirical, crooking finger
as the seeking ignorant masses swarm to hopeful honey.

Whose voice will it be rising from the wilderness?
Will it usher in a bright dawning, new day?
Or bring upon us tomorrows
which we wish would never be?
Will it be you, or will it be I?

Perhaps I should know from the mirror’s silent stare.
But I think not...

Fate shrouds Destiny within a dark veil...
blinding clear vision.
All that remains is Belief,
a clouded hope for possibilities.

© S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved
Avalon's Respite Nov 2015
Guilt endures a weighty shroud
     first aggression taints our deed
          self-righteousness stains our trail.

I saw you today...
flickering image across a flat screen.
One hand clutching a precious doll,
worn ragged from trust’s tight embrace.
It wears the tears from your half lidded eyes.

Camera pans left revealing the crime...
a ****** stump where an innocent hand
once held a child’s inquisitive fingers.

I wonder what I would say
if ever forced to face you,
exposing my great shame.

Perhaps I would repeat the spin from our
doctors of the twisted and profaned word.
They preen with vain pride,

“So few are as you".

Just a casualty of a righteous war...
As if the crippling of even one
guiltless child was not one child too many.

                 one child too many
                 one child too many

          *Guilt endures a weighty shroud
      first aggression taints our deed
self-righteousness stains our trail.


©  S.Loeding
All Rights Reserved
Avalon's Respite Nov 2015
Should not be titled.
Pictures in their purest form.
No title needed
LOL as a self proclaimed poet.... I get to break my own rules.
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