Tuesday, October 27, 2009


The rain, the rain, the tepid rain
the sullen mists, the muddy lanes
that splish and splash upon my shoes
As through the mud I do peruse.

I walk'ed once in sunny light,
The sheer exquisite mirth, delight
of feeling rays upon this skin
softly attired, so light and thin

But now, oh now, I'm burdened so
With piles and piles of heavy clothes.
With pants and socks and sweaters thick
With coats and hats and boots that click

Upon the muddy cobbled path
I trudge upon, with eyes downcast
To make it to the hallowed halls
Contained within the bricken walls
And little desks like horses stalls
Where all, like one big face that falls
Hear words of no import at all...


Deep within a secret spot
where all these things out here are not,
I still retain a tiny door
That all the kings and priests deplore.

A door to unforgotten place
where absence builds, does not erase.
Where little hobbits frolic round
And green things spring up from the ground.

A place I walked as just a child,
But haven't seen, untouched and wild,
Barefooted on a walk about.
It seems I’m here but I’m there now.

Wednesday, October 21, 2009


Movement slightly hidden ‘neath a sheer and silken blouse
That just conceals the gentle landscape of your skin.
Lips that rest with just the slightest hint of open smile
And deepest eyes that make my eyes return again.
With the gentle undulations as you move now through the dim
Light, flows like dark molasses sensuous and sweet.
Unrestrained I seek the solace of the places just unseen
The shallow breaths and primal ache as our eyes meet.
Hips are swaying with the rhythm, syncopated thick desire
Moonlight splashes, feel the yearning of a dance.
Erasing space between the touches, light around begins to dim
Only sensuously breathing, lidded glance.
Smoothest jolt of heady lightening, fingertips on sleeveless arm
Gliding, aching, reaching for willing embrace.
Touch, exploring things forbidden, watching lips, a blissful glow,
Intoxicating, feeling body, lover’s taste.
Passion burning inhibitions, sinking, floating to the floor,
Lie on bed of things discarded, eyes aglow.
Surrender any thought returning, heat still rising all around
As the overwhelming hunger upward flows.
Thick with atmospheric drawing, opening to voiceless call,
Tender trembling slowly find a path to go,
Intimate, embracing shadows, softly calling names of love,
Till the breaking waves are mustered, overflow.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Tavern Song

Around me I was glancing,As I stood and watched you dancing,
I have come to the conclusion that you're not the one for me.
I don't get lost in eyes a’ sparklin', Or your smiles and coyly flirtin’,
And I can't conceive a reason to desire your company.

You walk around here lookin' pretty,
Saying things so cute and witty,
Grabbing up all the attention of the ones who come your way.
I’m unmoved by your warm beauty,
Your swaying hips mean nothing to me,
And though intoxicated by you, I could clearly walk away.

Try as I may I can't imagine any reason I'd be standing here
A waiting to be blessed with just a glance that's turned my way.
There is no lass that I can see, for whom I'd give up being free,
Please take your chains right off of me and I'll surely run away.

You walk on by so sweet and sassy,
To rosy lips you touched your glass and
I was not reduced to silence by your tantalizing gaze.
I’ve no desire to get to know you,
Or to take you out and show you,
A thing or two with which the two of us could occupy our days.

I swear I’ll not stare at your figure,
Or ask the barkeep “Who came with her”
I can think of many better things to occupy my time.
I’ll sit here and drink my whiskey,
So that the lady that’s here with me,
Doesn’t see me looking at you and then end my mortal life.

Try as I may I can't imagine any reason I'd be standing here
A waiting to be blessed with just a glance that's my way turned.
There is no lass of which I’ve heard, for whom I'd give my life with her,
Please take your chains right off of me and I’m sure your love I’ll spurn.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Ten fathoms a'neath the deep blue sea, where ghosts and fishies play,
I ran 'cross an old graybeard astride a dapple bay.
“Three cheers”, said he, then sipped his tea and rode the steed away.
But 'fore he quite got out of sight,
Though hazy in the failing light
Out rang his voice with all his might
And what he spoke (‘f I heard him right),
“This sandy floor I do deplore but here I’m bound to stay”.

“Twenty-nine and three of cannon had weWhen we heard the bloody scream.
At Cap'ns cry the iron did fly, but we shot into the sea.
A ship of ghosts, of pirates gone
A bark of swirling mists,
And as they cleared, twas deadly fear that clutched within our chests.

On rock like wicked blades of saw our vessel then was tossed,
Me and all me sailor men were to the depths then lost.
So here ye find me ridin' round, a watchin out for some
Unlikely chap such as yersef', to join this sopp'ed slum.”

“This cannot be!", says I to he,And grasped to reach the top.
"I've one true love across the sea and here I cannae' stop!"
He gave a hearty, bold guffaw and looked his eyes around,
"Well lad, you dinnae understand, tis she who drug you down!

Yer lass was stowed safe down below when we raised the pirates mast,
And here she be, beneath the sea, a watchin' fer you to pass."

Smiling Shadow

Today I looked into your eyes,
And there I saw a tear,
That your words did not convey.
Hidden, in layers buried deeply.
In rooms no one may enter,
A place that never sees the day.

Born not, of the wind and fury,
Of passion and bold heart break,
And love blasted away.
Rather, a slow and tender yearning,
From looking all around you,
And not seeing a way.

The tears that, collected over years and,
Slowly find their way in,
All your silent dreams.
The dreams that, though they may consume you,
And burn with heat no one knew,
Stay locked, you dare not find the key.

You slowly make your way through,
Knowing no one else can see you.
None comprehend the clandestine truth,
That this is not the real you.

As I look into your eyes and,
There I find a tear that,
Your words do not convey.
My soul aches, to offer some respite from,
The silent shadow hiding,
Behind the smiling face.

The Piano

Oh that night, separated now by years and wounds and joys.
That afternoon sitting at the piano, you beside me, playing, playing
And talking in the subtle and awkward hints of an infatuated youth, green as springtime hills.
Conversations lightly brushing against the yearning for wild abandon and love,
Never voicing the desire, the tumultuous sea of want churning from the hips and the eyes and the soul.
It was a sexual desire, yes, but more.
Embodied within it was that secret drive, that beautiful beast
That looks upon each new mountain as a chance to climb. That vigor that time tempers to domesticity, not yet caged.
It was love, no less so for its hazy objectivity.
Love for the hunt, for the feel of dew on bare feet walking with other bare feet.
Not jaded by time, unmolested by the complications of the life we pile upon ourselves.
It was pure.
And though paths diverge and time heals old and finds new,
While sitting there so long ago, when I felt your body press against mine for our closeness, it was right.

Green Man’s Lamentation to Bridget

What if I kindly offered to wait, oh, couple hundred years for you
If I sat here on my pallet in the shade.
I’d weather all the snow and things, boiling July the rainy springs
While all the while my love refused to fade.

Pigeons would come and roost on me. Be buried neath the autumn leaves.
But damp and cold won’t change my mind at all.
And when you finally walk on by, a twinkle will spark in my eye
I’ll tell you all the odd things that I saw.

A man who wrote with fountain pens, ran with a lass intent on sin,
To sprawl beneath the branches, laugh and tease.
Young girl with her mother there, folded a flag with loving care
And left a box from far across the sea.

Before me some made tender love and others raged, bright flashes from
The warring that they seldom understood.
My roots have been fed with the blood of patriots and scorn’ed love
And tears from fathers wishing that they could.

Two hundred years I’ve watched from here, the goings and the coming near
The mighty towers and the fallen dreams.
These mortal men who walk so proud, lifting voices feeble, loud,
I’m weary of their rumblings now it seems.

I’ll go now with you to forests deep, to places far, still wild and steep
And fill my breast with breaths that aren’t so cold.
Hold you in my aged arms, taste the nectar of your charms
And feel the rapture, comfort of your soul