Riches begot with credit stock
Power bestowed with golden crown
Glory bequeathed with laurel wreath
Marriage beseeched with diamond ring

I hold you 'til the morning dew

Riches begot with credit stock

Power bestowed with golden crown

Glory bequeathed with laurel wreath

Marriage beseeched with diamond ring

All things beheld 'til evening red

Why have you come?
To weep on my grave,
Mourn and rave,
When all these years
It was only I who shed tears,
Whilst I was left to die in a corner,
With no one about me to bother.

Why Have You Come?
To lay a wreath on my grave,
When not a single rose you gave,
On my birthdays.

Why Have You Come?
To beg for forgiveness,
When you never cared for my happiness.

Why have you come?
To show for me you cared
When you never knew how I fared.
Away with you, you two faced knave,
To you,I was always a mere slave.

Skirt so yellow and bright

Eyes blue and wide,

with lips pursed right.

“Where is your joy,” she sighs?

Cotton shows years of wear

still flows yellow,  and bright.

Her lean body craves to share

him hard and yielding tonight.

After she threw the bridal wreath

their joy spilled like carpenter’s glue.

No longer did they sample from beneath

yellow skirt and sweater taut and blue.

Her scent is a flower named dangerous,

so he struggles, pulls away; all the while

wanting his graying head to rest

upon her breast and relish the joy in her smile.

the gentle Equinox was ours
though our time together was not always so
you tasted like magic to me
and we came together with all the fiery sweetness I imagined love to be

two halves of the same coin
it was I who dried your tears
and you who held me close
and yet I am unacknowledged

you,
my mate-no-longer,
who walks the long road with another
you have already begun to forget the heart laid at your feet

yet,
when I gathered the blossoms
when I consigned my heart’s desire to the flames,
when I laid the Solstice wreath beneath my pillow

It was you I dreamt of.

I come floating to you Mother, dead on the river, body bullet ridden: this is how God reaps His harvest of faith.

See, those columns that support the sky now, carried once the roof of our temple. The fire burning the pyres now carried oblations to our ideals; But we face a jealous God consuming in wrath.

Here I come, un-wreathed, unsung, wet in the tears of the skies, skin carrying scars of resistance, eyes open to the tyranny of faith.

Clutch my hands, let me feel the love that birthed me, one last time before my Spirit moves onward and beyond to the worlds of light.

I bought
white lilies
your favourite
flowers
and I spent
two hours
to make a
wreath for
your head
smiling at
the thought
of you in a
wedding dress
I made this
wreath for
your head
but I lay
it on your
chest instead
I'm sorry, honey
I've been
quite insane
since your
death