A phantom-like grace,
With the eyes of greying deathe,
The Black Dahlia

Its innocence lost,
An ebony inferno,
Rest, Elizabeth.

Thank you for three wonderful years .. For the bluest blues , for fiery reds and spellbinding yellows .. For brisk , cheerful winter days and brilliant summers .. For beautiful brown eyes I look forward to each morn .. For lighting my world like springtime sun .. I love you more than ever Kitten ! ❤️

.
Your flesh lies in your grave,
my ashes fly on the breeze.
And our Ghosts intertwine,
link-haunting through the trees.

Ethereal energy in ivory white,
wraith-like tinged in blue.
Mist shroud figures wrapped
are the Ghosts of me and you.

You call across my aeons,
your shade is next to mine.
I reply within a veiled second,
deflowering the ***** of time.

Forever conjoined fog-twins,
eternity is our lust to save.
With my ashes on the wind
and your flesh lying in a grave.

© Pagan Paul (31/05/17)

please excuse the gross lingo in this write
but using it will add some genuine bite
last night Jack's freezer called on our town
leaving a big frost blanket well behind
its chilliness stayed fixed to my rind
the temperature was minus of degrees
there came a feeling cold in toes and knees
everything most certainly zeroed down
holy crap them winter ides aren't too good
they shivered through my old frames wood
three more months of a bitter frigid brace
summer's warmth has departed these parts
which means I'll be up for Jacko's white starts
climes such as his are so hard to face