Acrostic (Seducer of Words)

Acrostic (Seducer of Words)

She sits…sheer thighs draped over Cherry wood
Escalating to foreplay with her muse
Drenched with words eager to satisfy…
Usurping passion to lay down a verse, while
Chanting the lonely hearts lament…yet dreaming of his touch.
Ever enthused to dance with anticipation…she fills her inkwell full of sin, poised to
Rain down upon the eager of detonating pages.

Old Cognac spirits and vintage wines dances wild upon her tongue
Flesh squeezed tight within the wake of aftershocks, while her tattered heart bleeds inside.

With love in her eyes she writes with the skill of a surgeon…dissecting the scars of
Old wounds to introduce a cure…fierce to tear through the veils of misfit shadows
Recalling the shine…remembering the sublime.
Delicate threads embrace her seams…of this part time hellcat…this
Seducer of dreams

The Storm

The Storm

It started as a restless breeze
gaining momentum along its path;
awakening the memories of my yesterday,
raining down on the sins of my past.
 
It broke through with a thunderous invocation,
inciting waves of fear and reverent pleas,
as I knelt to keep from falling,
crying, “ father, have mercy on me.”
 
For alone I tread the paths of this journey,
there is no turning back from what I know;
and mere words cannot bear witness
to this storm moving through my soul..

What Pearl are You

What Pearl are You

I am a woman in her season,
Both solstice and equinox;
smooth as the rivers run,
firm as the miraculous mountains
where the sun descends to rest.
I am a sojourner in this life;
formed from dust, breath and pulse.
~
 I am as subtle as a southern breeze,
cool as rain, and passionate as fire.
My heart is fated, having known love
before it was seduced by words.
It was written in a poem by my soul;
if you ever wish to read it,
search the pages of my heart, 
there’s no need to spill it here.
~
I am companion and confessor,
both stranger and welcomed guest.
I am she who cries tears
that traces the evidence of
yours and mine encounter; 
born in spring…yet died in fall.
~
I am a poetess with a pen stirring flames,
holding on to each tempestuous second; 
for love and lust between man and woman,
though customary, has us stumbling over buried treasure…
staining the legacy of days and nights
with bare backed ridings and empty dismounts.
~
I am heart, and mind to my spiritual essence,
the speaker of my house till journey’s end.
I am she who lives life and welcomes a friend to my door.
And if you knock and ask “what pearl are you?”
I’ll smile through my eyes and say…
beloved…I am love.

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