I peek out my window and see her,
Lady Twilight in her shimmering black gown,
walking up my cobblestone path.
She walks slowly, at ease, looking from side to side
and moving in her flowing stride, up to my doorstep.

I creak open the door and her eyes rise to meet mine
and she grins, a soft smile etching her smooth face.
Her head tilts ever so slightly to the side, her raven hair
hanging from behind.

The warm rays of the day have given way to the enveloping gray,
a hanging light clings to her outline, lit by a hidden source.
Hues of deep blue and violet shades mingle through the air,
suppressed to black as the sun makes it steady retreat.

She takes a step to me and raises her arm slowly,
placing her softly on my shoulder.
I break contact with her eyes and look down,
trying not to see as Lady Twilight quietly fades away.

i am not to be pursued as one your ****** interests,
because i wear clothing that are tight-fitted and lack inches.
refrain from holding on my arm, don't approach me with the famous mating calls; matter of fact don't approach me at all.
"ayo ****",
NO, you cannot text me.
no you cannot take me home, or use slick talk to undress me.
"maybe if you dress more appropriate, with elegance and class"
how about i wear what the **** i want without being harassed.
"act like a lady"
please do not play me.
i will not submit to your labels of what a woman should be,
or how she should dress.
really? what's next?
will i have to wear nun outfits to get a date,
because it's respectable, then will i find a 'mate'?
get the **** up out my face.
maybe i shouldn't use profanity,
maybe it makes me less of a lady.
& maybe words like "****** & hoes" make me look ****** crazy?
*** you're so unlady like.
ok but i sleep great at night!
maybe i should be a lady, so tell me what is a lady like?
sorry, nope, i will NOT shave my legs every night.
i will not wear extra clothing to be pleasing in your sight.

If you want to define love
you are not worth of such beauty.
Because love is not to be defined
just like you can’t describe
the golden thoughts of a crazy lady.

Her shine will forever remain
unspoken amongst the cruel men
who no longer know what to strive for
or what to do with the the puddle of shine.

pale lady, full moon,
spurns a million suitors' winks;
sits alone, brooding!

My mind emerges from the muck of dream
Sheen of crust and blurry view

In my mind you loom

In my dreams you sing your tune.

Step, clomp, foot, stomp

Off these laces
Pull these wagons
Heft these towers
Lay their power

Dream of vistas green and new
Untouched where?
there I see you

Log cabin of Linking Logs
Cobble our souls and roll them in stones
Heat our hearths and steam our schemes
Give us that leftover dream

But flags wave in every breeze
There is no land for my free

And that farm on the brook
I dream of maintenance
Will fall as quick
into this reapere

to pull the gift of life from dying soil
And play that I can have paradise
on earth

With iron ore
and sweat of toil

I will build a walled garden
to respect the rest
and tell myself

To keep dreaming.

Little Lady Lost (Sonnet)

Rebellious thoughts in youth descry a hold
upon the very minds of virtues tongue.
Our Little Ladies soiled by men so bold,
within an inch, their very lives are flung

upon the tainted mattress where they’ll lie
until their bodies waste through large misuse,
and fey their voices close, too oft they die;
slow *****, fast killed, Light broken through abuse.

Though one there is, not timid in her haste
she knows the way to take away the pain,
she lies there, pretense moaning; what a waste,
a Lady, Little girl born to the chain.

I ponder now, these words under my pen
of children lost, to suffer under men...