There once was a man from Tyrone
Who spent all his time all alone:
     It got on his nerves,
     And he wanted some curves,
So he Frankensteined a female clone.

Did Eve truly fall to temptation?
Or was Adam the source of manipulation?
Tilting the tale, shifting the blame,
A narrative forged to shield his name.

Was it Adam who conjured the snake?
A plot to see Eve’s freedom break?
Bound to home, she is confined,
A life of serving cruelly designed.

She serves him meals, her dreams erased,
She is subdued, her purpose displaced.
Her light dimmed, her laughter restrained,
A life once hers, now cruelly chained.

Was there truly a serpent’s hiss?
Or Adam’s scheme beneath all this?
Will he repent, will truth ever prevail,
Or will his story forever be under a dark veil?

Will Eve ever find her own way,
Or live in Adam’s shadow, day by day?
Confined is her will, but not her desires.
With enough will, she will burn bright like fire.
She is a phoenix, born from its ashes
She will definitely be free from Adam’s latches.

He voice will be heard, her truth will be shared
She will re-write history, her presence declared
She will have it all that she had left
But will her soul still feel bereft?

Soft snow falling,
Kissing the white tops of the trees.
It'll be a white Christmas this year,
First one my baby cousin will ever see.
His sleepy eyes and rosy nose,
Does he know that his joy will simply grow,
When Saint Nickolas completes his flight?
No I doubt he'd know that tonight is the night,
Of the birth of Jesus Christ.

No, but he will learn,
All in time as bed hours turn.
A yawn catches me drifting off,
As I sip my spiced cider and listen to the Christian hymns.
Staring into the golden lights of Grandmother's "Angel Tree,"
I often wonder, did baby Jesus know, he was sent by God,
To save our souls?
Or did he find his light along the way?

I'd ask the pastor,
But tonight the church is quiet.
Waiting for Christmas Mass tomorrow,
While young children are tucked into bed,
Drifting dreams of presents fighting the will to wait up for Saint Nick.

And as the candles fade,
I figure it is my time as well.
To turn to bed,
And await the sleigh of Santa Claus.
This Christmas though,
He will not be able to bring me what I want.
Unless, I could catch a ride,
On his magic flight.
Visit the ocean,
And sing "White Christmas," with you one more time.

But matter not what I long for,
I will slip away to sleep eventually.
'Merry Christmas to all,
And to all, a good night.'

Separate instances of many mistakes made when sleep was nye,
when the wanderings of the mind veer off beaten paths
and of dangerous outcomes one is no longer shy,
upon my life their dark shadow casts.

And I am left to speculate what graces I have lost along with
innocence and that good ignorance scorned by Eve,
leaving my mouth coated with the cloying pith
of that fruit she was suffered to thieve.

Minx
Harlot
Holy
*****
****
shamed
de-famed
un-named
disdained

D­esire
demonised
staked in
the pyre
to burn
churn
in Hell
Brimstone
and Fire

Unholy
Passion
buried
under
ground
deeply
depraved
dungeon
enslaved

Misbehaved
Devil
deranged
enraged
disengaged
spark
cag­ed in
the dark

Compassion
gone out
of fashion
banished with
Adam and Eve
still no reprieve

Time to
Rise up
cease
the lament
give and
receive
retrieve
re-discover
your inner
Lover

Resist the
descent
reset
turn the
wheel to
consent
re-claim
re-name
re-frame
re-train

Proclaim
this flame
this fire
this unbound
Desire
let pleasure
reign in
the garden
again!

We practice serenity
with each day that we receive.
No search for amenity
just live off of what we believe.
No shortness of want or need,
look how easily we breathe.

That’s where the old snake stopped me
from attempting to grab the fruit.
There was endless crop to see
there was infinite loot.
We’re living in paradise lost.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.

No much more to gain,
we shower within the rain.
Maybe I could stop this train
maybe you could stop the pain.
We have no short of grain
we have no hate or bane.
Rocky Mountains or flat plain,
delusional but still sane.

That’s where the old snake stopped me,
and told me that I need not pick.
The fruit was freely dropping,
raining down so strong and quick.
We’re living in paradise lost,
with nothing bringing us down.
We’re living in paradise lost,
and I don’t ever want to be found.

🌞🌏
🕊🌹🌴🐦🌳🐝🍒🦋🐿
❤👦👧
❤🔊👦👧🍎🌳👅❌☠
👦👧👍
🐍🔊👧❤🔊👧🌴🌳🌲❌
👧🔊🐍🍍🍌🍐🌴🌲👅
👧🔊🐍❤🔊👧🍎🌳👅❌☠
🐍­🔊­👧☠❌
🐍🔊👧🍎🌳📚😇👹
👧👀🍎👅😇
👧👀🍎📚
👧🍎👅
👦🍎👅
🤯😱
☠
🥀
❌🕊🌹🌴🐦🌳🐝🍒🦋🐿❌
😭

On a crisp autumn evening, in your warmth I find,
A paradise surpassing what heaven designed
In the quiet spaces between our whispers,
I find solace in the trust that lingers.
In the garden of our love, where skies are blue.
Just like Adam trusted Eve, I trust you,

The heavens may brand us as sinners, it's true,
But what's sin to the depth of me and you?
The first sins were woven in trust's embrace,
Where the forbidden fruit met love’s tender grace.

They trusted, as do I, with every chance,
Though rules may crumble, and judgments glance.
Perhaps our love defies the heavens' perfection,
Perhaps we offend Gods with our affection,
But our love outshines any celestial objection.

Why seek heaven's glow in distant height,
When beside you, my love, is my purest light?
Because what has heaven got that I can't find right here with you?

When God created man, he did so by creating Adam in his own image

How could the devil sway Adam and Eve if they were created from God’s own visage?

Is it sin if our creator could fall for the same blasphemous deeds?

Ask yourself if every flower blooms as pretty because they come from the same seeds