Pray excuse me Lady, I do beg thy pardon,
but I saw thee walking in the lonely garden,
chestnut hair falling over a long white gown,
and sadness deep in eyes of almond brown.
Forgive mine intrusion, please take a glance,
agree to accompany me to the lovers dance,
for thy loneliness to mine open heart screams
'take mine hand, lead me through thy dreams'.

© Pagan Paul (12/12/17)

  Dec 5 Val Vik
Lior Gavra

I write what I see,
Because I am blind.
I write what I hear,
But I am deaf.
I write what I feel,
But paralyzed.
I write what I smell,
In my burnt nose.
I write what I taste,
The only sense left,
And thank the day,
Because it can be worse.

  Dec 5 Val Vik
Pagan Paul

.      .
     .   .         .  .      .     
.   .     .        .
Snow kisses the sleepy mountains,
draping them with sheets of white.
Flakes drift down into the vales,
jewels sparkling in the full moon light.
A simple crystallised drop of water
delightfully whirls on a gentle breeze,
alighting softer than an eyelash kiss,
to find a home upon the trees.

© Pagan Paul (04/12/17)


Walked away,
but ain't moved on

  Oct 4 Val Vik
Lucius Furius

Lounging in the dry warmth of the sun,
overcome by the beauty of the green cliffs
rising above the hypnotic blue water. . . .
I think of Mann's The Magic Mountain,
obsession with the physical
(not, in this case, disease, of course,
but the sensual):
skin glowing in the year-round sun;
ripe fruit
falling into one's hand;
air, rich with the smell of flowers. . . .
Wouldn't such pleasure
inevitably dull the mind's keen edge?
Wouldn't Eden's ease
subvert all great endeavor?

Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem:  humanist-art.org/audio/SoF_026_laguna.MP3 .
  Oct 4 Val Vik

Great orator
how can you be
so afraid of people
and still so convincing.

By having a good poker face.
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