Field of Reeds is a heavenly paradise where Osiris rules. Ka of the Nile.
Ancient Egyptians believed that the soul resides in the heart.
Upon death, the Weighing of the Heart occurs.

I drank from the cup of His salvation and entered in
while the sun drank me and poured me out
I stood in the silence of time with my heels down  
weighing out the world  I measured my breath,
and found it to be good.  It is there that I understood
that Aaru fields of reeds is a golden healing place
that I could go to when I needed to be comforted;
I walked in with my shield and sword lifted high
shuffling through the reeds with my tender feet
not a blade of grass stirred not a single sound incurred
as my vision blurred, I dropped all my weapons
all my masks and facades for an ounce of Honesty;
I took my first sip of life at the cusp of death
and realized it was not I who named me Great Warrior
it was Osiris, as He pressed the Ankh to my forehead
my third eye opened and what I saw was a man with a heart of Gold.

I stay away from the cemetery at night for that is where he lives
I call him the Demon head, and he has horns  of alabaster calcite
every time I visit my friend's grave, I always break out in hives
cuz he is always there shedding his horns, all through the night

I light my lantern and walk with a mask on in case he's hiding
bidding my time I smoke a cig or too, and wait for the daylight
he never comes around here, behind the aluminum siding  
when dawn finally arrives, I am free from his kryptonite

Dancing pumpkins, roiling breath of cadavers and body rots
deadly snakes and big fat bats that fly into cracked empty pots
Demon head with all his rotting diplomats cannot shed fear  
when it comes to the likes of him, well I stay clear.....

I stay away from cemeteries and Demon's with horns of calcite
cuz when they shed, the hives begin to itch with all their might.

Quote by: Tom Woody

Every sunset closes the door on a day of pain and sorrow. And each sunrise opens a window to a fresh, new start. What will you do with yours?

A sunrise yawns and suddenly I'm born again, to hope and joy
within the windows of my soul a shutter opens and I slide
glad that the sunset has blanketed my body with marrows of dark

From blush of night to pink of day, I dance upon God's open sky
enclosed inside a heaven where even Angels sigh
happy to be part of a Universe I sit enfolded tween' the stars

Surrounded by God's love it matters not the time of day or night
as I shift from dark to light with eyes wide open true
I know that Mother Earth will open wide her arms to me and you

A chasmal moment of grace appears on the horizon to break the morn
encircled by flowers, trees and rivers, I know that life is good
no matter how many hours night throws at me feet
no matter how much pain or sorrow I feel, I will never be defeated.
Poem by: Mystic Rose

A sliver of light appears in the distance
calling me like a songbird in the morn
a silent beam dotted without askance
it was long ago that my Lord was born
every room is silent here, except mine    
soaring on tinseled dreams of yesterday  
the others sleep, while I keep vigilant time    
I want to be prepared for Christmas Day
A slip of truth slides inside my heart
I am content to be right where I am
waiting for a new day aside my counterparts
living out the season best that I can
Merry Christmas Jesus, I whisper softly,
and to the whispering wind, I have Faith in thee

Quote: If I tell you that I have a gem folded in the palm of my hand, the question
of belief arises, but if I unclench my fist and show you the gem, it will not...
Buddha

A Fistful Of Diamonds Or Colored Sand

A fistful of diamonds or a  handful of colored sand
God blew a breath and scattered me all over town
I don't own airborne wings I don't live in fairyland
but when I see I only see reflections of His gown

A clear cut glass edged and polished with shine
another object of valor dulls before His stars
Sotto voce, an invisible sign of His Divine
I can either accept the vision, or decline

The mayhem of  the worlds chaos just a blow
I'm soak in the reflection of His quiet calm
Spikenard anoint and flowers bloom and glow
He is my diamond in the raw my soothing balm;

A fistful of diamonds or a handful of colored sand
He's the love I crave for, in the palm of my hand.

June 29, 2021

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZlQ85UbZolA

As November arrives with her golden colors of russet and auburn,  
she tips her hat to the eagerness of December sighs ,
and fills our days with sunshine and beautiful breezy love.  
Let us walk down the path of deep serenity, and listen to  
the swaying trees,  telling us that all is well within  (breathe )  
There is a field full of golden light, and as the sunlight arrows
through the branches of a  barren tree, we get lost in the bonfire-reds
and sun flamed remnants of yesteryear, .  
The memories of days gone by become golden moments

and as the soul yearns , it reaches its invigorated space (breathe)
We watch as a deer caresses the waters by the river
as November invites us in, It says to us in whispers and sighs,    
"I am only making way for winter  dear soul, "
and as we huddle in our warm homes,  we begin to realize ,
that every season loves us as it should (breathe )
As November arrives with her golden colors of russet and auburn,
we know Christmas is arriving and soon, we can delight in a new
rebirth.      In Love and Light,    Your Mystic Rose

Beyond the escarpment of love a 2nd hand rose thrives, trying not to die  
the gardens are pregnant in bloom as Mei in her China gown asks why
the authentic sun shines both to burn the winding paths of languid lies
and to non-discriminate the swell of her pearls, this is her Dynasty cry

Stunning gardens giving birth, young brides and padded stoic grooms
happy gregarious music plays a Guangling melody of old while she enchants
the whispering winds, she tries not to think of her future  as the hour slips
  
Typhoon Marge 1973, a wedding picture framed in white taken by the lot
but on this previous day not a stroke of wind not an ounce of water to mar
the union of two souls,  beyond the crystal ball gazes of two young lovers
the sea is still untouched, no rain induced landslides yet, no ***** terrain

A flood of emotions isolate Mei, the coastal flood fill  her lungs  
she is a deluge before a torrent of people who watch in quiet consent    
This ceremonial ritual quadrant union breaks, as she makes her escape
no pre-arranged singling spot, just a rolling sea and the rise of her breast
******* in air she runs, runs, runs, and runs, away from him .
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

This years Halloween its a tedious task  
because of the virus, we all need a mask      
be safe not sorry  
says the man, John Tory  
keep your distance, don't drink from a flask

the children are longing to participate this I know
cover mouth and nose, and join the evening tow
demonstrate
be a template
wear a mask while shelling out get into the flow

Halloween has been a fav since I was a little waif
kids will be kids, its up to us to keep them safe
keep an eye
if asked why ?  
tell them its essential, just for a period of grace.

A good little habit for all that they treasure
and its up to them if they want the pleasure
be cautious
not raucous
my children, have fun but remain in your measure.

October 15, 2020

Agling thoughts that once did bloom like swiftlings
on a cleaned faced mind by the morning sun of day  
We sang songs of glory in our living room  
sailing on through the years that went by like lightening
We savored every mental picture every image,  
of a life well spent...

Hope is a light by the window, it glows
a lit torch of doting, it never dies
Biding its time on the wings of love's throws
its a matchstick of hope when one cries

Hope is a lantern that hangs way up high
a cresset lamp at the edge of night
Rising and soaring like an eagle in the sky
it is always present and never out of sight

Hope is a feather that floats in thin air
an eider down, for the crest fallen heart
It aims to restore with gentleness and care
it cherishes and delivers, a fresh new start.

Morning air as I breathe you in  
I open the treasure chest of hope  
This moment on the mind says  
God is with me and I am free
In this quiet moment of reflection
I find a world of peace      
The river, the earth, the simple rose,  
all grown in the womb of my Father's love  
Blessed thoughts of gratefulness
I find the meaning of life, as I know it
Inside this poem the caress of Him
who gave me the gift to write
Morning air as I breathe you in  
I come to know why the stars don't dim
Its because of Him, isn't it ?

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche


Dance beneath the magic moon and listen to the flute
the stars will spangle brightly and then render you a mute
Twirl around the trees feel the brush of wind against your skin
the music of the forest has bounce it lives and breathes within
Bap Bap boom boom boom bap goes the sound of the rain
let it trickle down your face and take away your pain
life a technicolor beat in every note pure heaven
twisty water waves that flow with ascension  
the music of the nymphs will take you  higher than the stars  
mayhap it will just guide you, all the way to Mars
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

My heart was singing a tune this morning
humming to the sound of your rippling smile
falling between your arms I heard it sing
"La Vie En Rose" just as I bridged the mile
Two avouching souls bathed in promise  
in a world of pulse we chose love not hate
giving birth to each other we love-kissed
the  effulgent stars of heaven at their gate
My soul was recalling that dance of love
that drove us to the brink of married glee
since that first day, you fit me like a glove
and kept me warm, through winter's spree
I remember when you sat me on your knee
and asked me sweetly, " will you marry me?"

am I made of glass or not I  see no reflection
am I solid like the flower or just mere reflection

does my scent cling onto him each time I disappear
does my spirit glow, like the star's liquid reflection

what avenue should I take to get to his garden nook
what cupid will light my path as I trail his reflection

will I be bodacious and brave enough for his heart    
will I find his looking glass of twosome reflection

am I made of glass or not this remains to be seen
am I the cognate of his chamber's light reflection  

forfeit not love for sake of lust, mirror on the wall    
forfeit him not nor what you see in his reflection  

transparent as pixie dust and never made of glass  
transparent as the moonlight in his eye's reflection.

September 1, 2020

Always be the strongest link between the weakest ring
the kindest of the two, the giving of the one,
never forget to be brave when fear sieves through
and always say thank you when someone offers you their heart
Make honesty your module and never settle for a lie
be true to yourself and others, always walk the path of light
when you act upon your nature it will always treat you right
live together live alone but never with a superficial crowd
the best of company is often the company of one
so tell your story to the stars, let them shine upon
appreciate the moment, for soon it may be gone
always be the strongest link, between the weakest ring
and always say thank you when someone offers you, their heart.

In the twilight, amid the cacophony of a birthing evening light
the scent of petrichor, boardwalk talks in standstill time  
Discarded yellow buckets feet of clay that toed in tight,  
imperviously swift to a descending sun your eyes in slow met mine  
suddenly you were a somber California boy in my parade  
I was quick to draw a spell with the magic  of my jade
Magical Spells
A sorcery of love
Girl meets boy
In the most clandestine way
California land of dreams  
Another place another time, love bloomed with grace
crystal ball fantasies, we both flew from place to place  
Married
A
Girl
Infatuatedly
Crazy
in the twilight, amid the cacophony of a birthing evening light
she walked me to the beach, then introduced me to the night.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nb7U9tBaJ3c

Amber fluids streaming from the light of a Universal Creator
we are the flickering candles of His sacred Temple , His joy  
Inside the breath we find our being and  in deepest thought,
we discover our true selves;
Nestled in the center of our Universe  we co-exist together,  
joining forces with nature, we become mountains of strength,
and oceans of compassion;
Angels of altitude descend to earth, to anoint those who
have not yet felt the love of a mother or father...
They are Saintly treasures,  unequaled to humans
residing in the inner walls of this beautiful world;
Their motivator wings enclose us with such strength,  
that we feel safe and nurtured like a babe in warm waters.
Manipulating light  they warm the relic of our souls,  
bringing out the heirlooms of our Spirit and breath.
Close your eyes and float softly towards the softening,  
polishing their golden trumpets they begin to bring
us closer to the traveler that we are, pulsing with heat,  
invigorated by the journey, you are now the heart beat  
In your chest, you feel warm, and filled with love.
Namaste
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

In your presence I am but a sparkle in the sand a breath of Angel dust
In your presence I am the sun's companion and the moon's best friend
In your presence I seek only light and the path that leads me home
  In your momentary presence, ... I just am
In your presence I am love and only love, both young and old  
In your presence I become the flower that thirsts for Holy Water
In your presence I diminish and you appear I am never left alone
In your momentary presence, ...I am there
In your presence all my worries turn to ashes as I pray
In your presence I watch the gentle changing of the guards
In your presence the ebon of the night turns into light
In your presence I can truly see the path that leads me home
In this momentary presence of respite, there is always you.

Should I  search for you through lotuses of gold
or climb pyramids of truth and go beyond the self?

If I were Ghost of Amdapor,  
could I possibly un-clock the secret
of a shadow bringer's touch?

If I were perception at its best  
would these emerald eyes transmute
into the umbra of your light?

If these wings of mine were Love  
stretching further than the ocean blue,  
could I cover you ?

If I were mercy's Angel  
at deepest hour of need
would you be an echo of my living past
or the song of our tomorrows child
my love?

If I were yours and you were mine
inside this peaceful lake
I call my heart,  
Would you be rock salt or would you be,
water.

One moment in your eyes
and suddenly I find tranquility,      
again...
In a flash the memory returns
of who we used to be.
One threescore year and ten
each second is relived.  
In a single flash of smile,  
the world is ours again.
One moment you are in my presence,  
and the next we part like a last Amen!

It is your heart that keeps me young,
time and time again
time and time again
time and time again !

Om Bhoor Bhuwah swaha, Tat Savitur Varenyam, Bhargo Devasya Dheemahi, Dhiyo Yo Naha Prachodayat."
May the Almighty God illuminate our intellect to lead us along the righteous path

In the stillness of the night a sparrow sleeps wings closed
whispering to the moon secrets heldfast at sorrows door
chasms of fear in the bottom of my bottomless pit, I pray
that morning will come to break the stars for sake of sun

In calmness of this stillborn eve I wait for freeze and wind
trampling of wild animals in my forest glen will not rescind
until the break of day arrives to feather alleys of the dark
I will soar with creatures in the ticket of a charcoal night  

Moon secrets held fast at Mystic's door of Grace I embrace
the blackboard dove of light that knows to crow a magic spell
my gown of stygian silk is tangled in the stars that shine out  
and I am willing it to sweep the dark for sake of blessed light.

As Autumn scents return to me once more    
sending me to a sweet October brush
infringing on each leaf the earthen floor    
of reds and golds collect me in their rush;
While breezes raise the feathers off a thrush
I harbor long and sweet by rivers end
just basking in  the moment of Godsend;
Firing up my senses with cooling love,
she's crisply cleans my soul then with her tend    
she seasons me and fits me, like a glove.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zs8oz4cNEZU

You can live on land or you can live on water

breathe the scent of angel's chiffon wings

A New Year has started on Time

it is handling your Hopes with great care

Feel free to check out the video,
Namaste !

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1R8nJSe8Jb0

Poetry read aloud ...

  Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in real tight and kissed my sleepy  head
you will see stars of bright and little angels baking bread
there upon a cloud, a Pegasus with wings of finest thread
Dreams are made for human bodies full of goodness, light
you can get there if you try  and wish with all your might
you'll see blueberry moons with  eyes that wink so bright  
magic swords with pixie dust, that never fear the night
Fairies will rock you in their cradles by their garden nook
while you sleep five winks and create with just one look
up here you can be a butterfly lost in the winds of chinook
reveal most anything, you're transparent as an open book
Dreams are made of fairy dust and gold my mom once said
as she tucked me in I fell asleep, with angels in my head.

The womb of a mother is a cradle for a child to grow in
a nine month gestation grace period is a child's sweet elation
Mother tenderly sings to her little one as she waits to give birth !

A mother is a vessel of purity, also a    

Mother's heart, is full of love for her child
Object of her desire, "a baby with ten little toes and ten little fingers"
Tenderly woven thoughts arrive at the font of her pregnancy
Hieroglyphical sounds and body rotations, she is mesmerized
Enchanted by a human life growing inside of her she
Reveres the treasure within her and prays for safe delivery
Search the whole world over and you will never find a purer

Love, than the love a mother has for her child
Over the moon and infatuated with her infant she cradles  
Validating her affections to the gem before her eyes
Each time a woman delivers a child, Angels pluck their harps of gold.  

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

Luscinian voices in the thicket of a midnight waltz
single male birds singing from a point of solitude  
closing down on city sounds inside a forest vault  
the sound of their vocals, nightingale's prelude      

calling in mates with whistles, trills  and sounds
sending messages of longing from across the throng  
listening from cup-shaped nests, eager to be found  
they wind up feeling drawn by their melodious song  

she, awake as the dawn and free as a bird in the sky  
he, as cuffed to her beauty as  the wings on her back  
they mate on a branch as soft as a nightingale's sigh  
away from the songsters, who are trying but lack

luscinian voices singing softly of dawn's pure glory
while two nightingales share a life, and love story.    

June 11, 2021

Silk and light double glades of beauty on a wire of thin
I cannot help by wonder how long it took him to spin
this singular string of intricate structure, this web

Early morning sips , the air brushes my rousing cheek
as the sun yawns out I observe softly, but do not speak
this natural fiber of ancient wisdom still hasn't ebbed  

its incandescent firey blaze is a mirage a shaft of light
the remnant of a spider still attached from yester night
this arachnid wanderer of dawn by morning's celeb,  

has captured my imagination and my inquisitive mind
this creature of weave has me, vaguely entwined...

Silk and light double glades of beauty on a wire of thin
I cannot help but wonder how long it took him to spin
this singular string of intricate structure, this web

Early morning sips , the air brushes my rousing cheek
as the sun yawns out I observe softly, but do not speak
this natural fibre of ancient wisdom still hasn't ebbed  

its incandescent firey blaze is a mirage a shaft of light
the remnant of a spider still attached from yester night
this arachnid wanderer of dawn by morning's celeb,  

has captured my imagination and my inquisitive mind
this creature of weave has me, vaguely entwined...

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2022

We are graced with a gift and it is to be unwrapped, every morning
as gentle as the peeling of the light when it falls upon the gloaming
unravel the day like a present of love, boxed in the shape of a heart
it is the promise of life that gives you, another day another chance;
Walk in the path of beauty gather the flowers you find on the way  
fill your arms with scented holdings and be brave come what may
those tokens of affection are the presents of your daily romance
they are the jewels that deduce, another day another chance
Winds of change are coming and we need to stay afloat for now
run towards the things that make you feel sane and sweet alive  
unravel the day like a present of love from the past and live,  
its the trinket of worth that bestows, another day another chance
We are graced with the gift of today and so I hope you dance,
I pray for you that you give life, another day , another chance.

Another year has passed by me and so much different then the last  
ever since this Covid March I have been living out my house arrest  
no outward smiles to show my love, no hugs no squeezes for my kids
like a Citizen of good I understood but yes, I almost flipped my lid

with every day that passes by I dream of yesterday's good chide
though nature walks and social talks are good, I have been tried  
heart and soul I miss my family and friends, this is my prayer  
that the New Year will arrive, and be our dragon slayer ...

Another year another Auld Lang Syne, I'm longing for the wine
an open sign that says yes come in, restaurants where I can dine
a shopping mall, a dancing hall, filled up buses with a kiss n' ride  
maskless faces in a world of wander, with happy people at my side

Another year has passed me by, and I'm waiting, by and by...

Summer dreams sleep at the cusp of a cool November
I am filled with hopes that at the font of my soul, tremble
like autumn leaves when the wind blows they toss and sway  
like sweet October rain, each raindrop falls but doesn't stay
I remember red poppies, springing out of the ground
in a place called Flanders Fields, my how they slept so sound
after the gunfire a silence rooted so deep we closed the door        
after the anthem of doom, the world said " no more "
A November to remember, make it your thanksgiving season
find new breath, be brave,  show loyalty not treason  
like the first cool feel that touches you at the first snowfall
like the first real kiss that says I love you, it is your call  !
I remember those who died before me and I cannot ignore
the red poppies that are strewn across the gravesite floor  
I could never, no never forget them nor their brave roar  
I could never, no never forget, ...it was a time of war !

Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2024

Cyclone stars appear in the night sky
alongside circular lights abreast an amber moon
He quietly sits by the piano  and plays
sending this heart of mine into a tailspin;
Aiming straight for my glass soul
he shatters every cruel reality and replaces it
with a soft fantasy of gold...
Pouring out a melody of love's solitary journey  
he unlocks every door and window.  
Unaware of the air that he breathes beside me,  
this longing I hold unfastens, beneath a canopy of gold  
I am suddenly shaken, re-arranged and changed forever.

Written by: Mystic Rose

Any poem just for you as long as it makes you feel the way I do
I'll sweeten it with sugary words of love and sprinkle it with care
penning by the light of the moon I'll scribble until break of dawn  
any poem just for you as long as it makes you feel, the way I do;

Any poem worth its weight in gold is a poem scribed with love  
No other love poem has ever been written on my page but yours  
You are the heart of this poem and you are my world of true ;  

Paper to pen, pen to paper, we are joined  together and never taper
Open your message and read what I wrote for you, beloved one
Every poet knows that a love poem has a lover and lovee, so please  
Move into my poem , settle in between the I  and the You,  ...love?

Any poem just for you, as long as it makes you feel the way I do,  
Any poem just for you, as long as it makes you feel the way I do.  

Jan 26, 2021

Summer thoughts arrive and soon I glide away behind a dream  
scribbling in the sand poetic words as I sit beside the stream

watching children play aside sandcastles tall as bastle forts
I capture every smile and laughter rising up with sweet escort

beneath a sky of rosy quartz I ease, content as a poet in love
words flow out and flap away like  happy wings on a turtle dove

Wading pools, barking dogs, ice cream trucks with jingles, a refresh  
ablaze with summer heat I scribe beside the water tanned enmeshed

Taken in by the fragrance of a moment, I get lost aside the sea  
scratching at the surface of a written verse that only I can see    

I am the composer of this love letter, down the river of joy it glides  
sailboat fantasies arrive and before I know it, I'm on the other side.  

March 3, 2022

"With eyes centered upon hope and deliverance
this heart of mine knows no other way to pray"

Give us Lord today the strength to do what we must do
to rise above the fears that have been imposed
on us this last passing year;
So many people hiding in their homes and waiting
Please open gate Father from heaven dry our tears;
I believe that if you want, you can subside this virus
and bring it to its' Kingdom come...
Dear Abba, anoint the Doctors and the nurses,
scientists and Ministers, police officers , and politicians
and help us be patient with all these new restrictions;
Abba ,giver of life and taker in death,
enable as we take our every breath;
I pray you hear me as I place this prayer on these lips
of mine, and others
Help us to be kind to one another after all,
we are all,  sisters and brothers.
Amen !
Copyright © Mystic Rose Rose | Year Posted 2021

April beauties waiting to be born beneath the warmer soil
every spring flower sings the praises of the seeds before
Applause them, for they are brave to return with petals
full of bloom, time and time again just to scent our garden
They show up with sheer delight looking all so pretty,  
in their bright petals of red, yellow and purple too;

April showers  ever so generous with their water works  
refreshing the air with sweet petrichor they drench us to the core
We all know that after the rain, rainbows are never far in toe
Streaks of color bringing promises of hope and renewal
I for one am glad that April is finally here,
we should go out and plant a seed, now that the winter's gone away

The End.

Agape Love: An unconditional kind of charity love paralleled to Godly love;  

Upon the healing balm of His gentle touch
the sound of a whispering meadow
fills my heart with hope;
He is the inspiration that drives my soul home  
"Courage my love," someone breathes into my ear
as I try to figure out the prayers my mother taught me long ago;
She stands by my wheelchair and smiles a Mona Lisa smile
I don't know who she is but she smells like flowers of springtime
Gone are the passionate hours of my youth,  
replaced by the placid thump of a nursing home life  
I see reflected in her eyes, streams of living water  but I don't know
neither her name nor her address, only the color of her compassionate eyes.

There beyond the afterlife a glimpse of a passing star
an orbing light that flickers in submergence with the dawn
The memories of a life exuding all that none can mar
a revival of affection, in shades of gold and brawn

Way down yonder my lonely thoughts explore      
aside your Divine Light and Radiance
this hungry heart is wanting more    
I dip inside a memory like an old romance  

Dancing dreams of lovers flickering so bright  
a pacification of senses, I am bathed in your light
there beyond the afterlife a glimpse, a shooting star
I would love to meet you once again but you live way to far.

TUBULAR AND JOLLY HE SAT IN THE SNOW
HIS EYES MADE OF BLACK BUTTONS AND GLOW
ENERGETICALLY MADE, BY THE HANDS OF A CHILD

"What a wonderful morning to build me a chum "
said the child as he picked, packed and put with his might
He poked in a carrot then packed it real tight  
but spoke not a word as he stood there, chalk white
He showed him two tonsils, one tongue and some teeth
all he got was a grin and a stare, " call me Pete "
Crunch, crunch went the boots, they were all in cahoot
if you hear me Chum please give a hoot !
It was an owl by far who heeded his call
white as pure snow but not quite so tall;

Rollaway days made for children at play
It was Christmas and oh, it had to be done  
inclining an ear he said, ''be a good chum ''
then he turned up grin and sang with a hum.

What would happen if you embraced the possibility that the God of the Bible really did create the world and really does care for you?

Allow me to be a child again even if only in my mind
for only in your love's contain did that first Christmas truly find
a child afresh to You consigned.  
Inside my heart I'll place each hope like a fresh poinsettia in the snow
in that wintergarden of love's lope each bauble will be hung with glow
right above Your sweet Halo.
May I be privy to your birth like Mary was that blessed day
Twas' only You she could unearth inside that lowly stable's ray
You really saved the day.
My Lord, My Lord, I am in awe each time my heart re-calibrates
You are the light of Christmas law the one that clears the world of hate
and opens up the Trojan gates.

Let me see if I still remember how
to light an emotion with just one touch
Caress the linen dreams of my hot summer day
with just the sound of your sweet laughter ..
I shall attempt to recreate "desire"  
by watching your strong muscular legs glide
deeper, into the mouthwatering jungle of my ***
Let me lick a moment off your long hour of leisure
and slowly enjoy this Sunday feast;
Perhaps loose my drawstring as you enter my rush  
push push then withdraw, push push then withdraw
I will accumulate your kisses, as you drink me in  
Oh, ...    I remember  .

Nocturnal dreams of midnight fantasies
neon flowers alongside scented lily pads
Rippling clouds, crossings on the moon
magnetic fields of bluing, yes I see

Angels flying, flitting round the globe
calling over stars to light the path
Magistrates of heaven glorious chants
soft and mellow pastel, like the sea

Beatific vocals soft as voices of the earth
enigmatic secrets of a society, un-known  
Cooing doves, fragrances of evening musk  
Divine Beings attired in Elysian clothes like Deity.

Valentine notions of floral bouquets
sweet sweetened chocolates from Brigadeiro
velvet talks and smooth kisses without delay,  
Cupid sure knows,  which way to shoot the arrow;
Darling cards that say I love you
better than a dream at heaven's door
bon bons, red balloons and blue
who could ask for anything more.
Beloved, dear, honey,sugar pie, precious  
these saccharine words cling to the heart
like a magnet to the soul, love is gracious
and always plays its part;

Pen pals from the very start
scented paper and feathers of pink
inside a pre-kissed envelope of white
You, writing about the taste of Trinidad
by the sweet-burning smoke of a pipe blend,
me, whispering to you about the beauty of a snowflake  
as it comes swiveling down from heaven;
Letter writers of ancient times, hoping for love's arrow  
You, singing a Christmas Parang in a Trini voice of honey  
me,  with my faux fourrure and Christmas boots of leather;
Lovers yet to be my love but if this year I get my winter wish,
I will meet you by the Pigeon Point,   on December 29th,
with a glass of *** in one hand
and a plate of festive rice on the other
Together we will melt the last glacial memory
from our burning waiting hearts.

December 7 2021  

Meaning of Fourrure / french word for fur