Your One

‘Twas the flicker of an eye

And the beating of a heart

A wisp of perfumed fragrance

The memory of her art

The moment that you met her

As eyes and minds, they clashed

And how you were so grateful

Struck dumb, shell-shocked, abashed

A fraction of a second

Set free to shape the years

In wonderful expression

And love, and life, and tears

Fortuitous, yet thankful

For two with a shared sun

Your dreams were truly answered

As she became Your One

Always

You were always my girl
Before we even met

You were always the one
My beautiful brunette

You were always my sweet
Your hazel eyes waiting

You were always my love
Though life for us fleeting

You were always my doll
In porcelain refrain

You were always my wife
And then you took my name

Ghosts of Home (Moonlit Waltz)



 
 He held her close,
 As the wind kissed her hair.
 She was barely a fragment;
 Almost not there.
 They waltzed on the balcony
 Below shooting stars,
 In shades of the spectral,
 In the night’s deepest hours.
 The moon shone upon them,
 Intangible truths,
 That the girl that he danced with
 Was a ghost, so aloof.
 And what once was their home
 Was now merely gloss
 That covered the memories
 That the two had both lost.
 The she-ghost just pittied
 The man in her arms,
 As they crossed over floorboards-
 How he needed her charms.
 For refusal to admit
 That the dead was his wife,
 Meant he’d waltz on regardless
 And he’ll waltz his whole life.
 

 (Image courtesy of JaguNa on deviantart.com)

Fallen


It’s a freezing promise of eternal bliss
That scented rose, that first sweet kiss
An enticing thought you know is wrong
A flash of a thigh before it’s gone
A sampled passion that no one sees
An act of submission whilst on your knees
You’ve tried to avoid the devil’s lure
You thought you had, but now aren’t sure
Because the eyes you thought weren’t there
Had thus been watching from cold nowhere
Despite the planning and subterfuge
Your painted eyes, your lips of rouge
The cruelest demons lurking down below
The Fallen ones of you now know
And all the rest of your sweet life
You’ll try to act the perfect wife
But fear has found your deepest thoughts
The grief you’ve caused cannot be fought
Pain manifested and now being shared
As your dark soul’s forever bared

(Image courtesy droolinmonkey on deviantart.com)

Stolen Away

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Waiting for an answer
I know will never come.
Hoping for one glimpse
Of you under the sun.

Desperate for more memories
To share between us two.
Knowing that your cancer
Has robbed my soul of you.

I’ll write each day a letter
And mail it on the wind.
Until one day I’m with you
My wife, my love, my friend.

The Heat

The Heat Image

Sweat rolls from her body
Glistening like dew drops on a web
A small pool forming at her navel
I would dive into it if I could
Oh, how I wish to submerge myself in her
She intoxicates me
I can barely breathe
I have never, and will never, see such beauty again
Wiping my face with the back of my hand
I flick the residue to the floor
My princess watches me, impassive
Hazel eyes glinting in the firelight
Shadows rippling across her form
I have no words
Nothing worth saying, so don’t
This night is perfect
If only it would last forever
I try to memorise every last molecule
Every last drenched fibre of her being
And thank the All Mighty
For giving me this woman
This wife

Future Past

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Washed up on some distant shore,
Memory of what came before.
Beach of crystal fibres gleaming,
Fabricated child stooping, feeling,
Collects a trinket, battered, grazed.
With passing thought light is raised.
Held to air, what could it be, do?
Imperfect circle, gold of hue.
Not made for him, not meant for all,
Unique prize for a museum hall.
No use to the hive, defective.
What should he do? Reflective.
But, before thrown back to ocean,
Electric eyes behold encryption,
‘My darling wife. Yours for eternity.’
Processors whir, child’s new reality.
And, for the first time in aeons,
Someone believes, eyes like neons.
And water, not oil, drops to the floor.
A child shall dream this day, once more.