Delicate poised on the edge of a leaf
In the garb of hopelessness seeking relief,
With an attitude stained a doubtful hue
Is it thee, It is me, it is he, it is you?
Purloined in protracted, stammering fright
Through the shadows of day into simmering night,
Erratically ****** through Hell holes of sound
Into that found, paradoxically, so profound,
….The realisation that deep down within
Melds the heart of a lion with a pitfall of sin.

Tangentially clashing the yin and yan
With that gross inconsistency common to man
And the flailing egos, flailing away…….
Just an utter waste of space, I say!
Through Trump and Putins' nuclear pall
Do the rats and cockroaches inherit it all?
Is it he, is it she, is it thee, is it me
Did we build this vast insanity?
M.
19 April 2018

tonight's early sky
hung a poem

for the capture

but my muse's
net wasn't
woven tight enough

to hold that slip of a moon
or its partner
that one tiny star

Love stood before Loyalty her soon to be husband and a chapel full of wedding guests wearing a crown of Olive leaves, dressed in light, and holding a bouquet of pink Lilies.  Love and Loyalty looked into each other's eyes and exchanged vows.

Loyalty: "My dream of making you my wife has become a reality.  I promise to hold you in my arms and keep you safe for all eternity.  I promise to cherish you and treat you like royalty."

Love: "I've been waiting for this moment ever since my heart took it's first beat.  Like Doves flying on the winds of peace I promise to uphold this marriage above the clouds of serenity."

Surrounded by all the virtues Loyalty and Love kissed.

Written by Epic