Just Her Eye

My eyes follow this superior broad

Wishing serenely for our gaze to align

So that she may see the want in my eye,

The Desire that so zealously awakened

To the start of her line.

The Lady proceeds, our gaze never to have been so kind,

Leaving me abandoned- alone with this failing image

She so unknowingly left before me.

Oh, Lady,

Don’t run, my Lady, don’t tempt me like a saintly Lucifer.

Divine’s tears fall in her hair- on her skin and cloth,

As other Ladies gleam and gawk, yet she knows not.

Her long legs-damning the walkways with leather soles, laces- and heels

Embracing those blessed fiends.

The Lady dares me,

Tempts me-when she stops!

Then…

Her lace, it has come undone.

Shocked is her eye, she stoops to tie,

Begging me-Daring me! To come and say “Hi”.

I start- slowly, gracefully,

As if I have not a care in the world,

I skip and strut towards this beauty,

Swinging my arms like a casual buffoon.

Fool!

Then!-

Yes!- then, the most abhorring of male voices

Calls out the most loveliest of names

To which the Lady then stands, forgetting her lace,

A smile that is sin

Directed at him!

His smile is such, he struts to touch-

They kiss…

I stare, my heart in my hand, they kiss…

The most opprobrious of kisses to be made in such a place.

Yet I ache…

Longingly for those lips to be on mine,

I turn away- walk away- as if!- I had not intended to claim such a lovely Dame.

Her image grasp my mind like a lover to theirs and I cannot help but wonder;

“Had the dazzling eye, of such a young beauty, caught mine?”

And He Said…

 Set in late 1600s this tale is consist of the exchanging of love letters between Dovantie and Lovania who had been separated by an inevitable parting distance. Enjoy! Date August 23rd

~

“My dearest Lovania :

I miss you so…Dear Lovania

When may I see you again?” he says to me.

My lover-oh!- my secret beau.

He writes to me with sadness and woe

From across the seas- over yonder since the last Christ’s Eve.

~

Date September 1st

“Miss me no longer, dear Dovanie, for I

Shall call upon you within a fortnight,”

I assure his plea.

My darling Dovanie… How I have miss thee

Just as so.

My words are sure to fail me, for I cannot express my want so curtly, my love.

~

Date September 8th

“My lovely Lovania :

May a fortnight pass

Us with haste, for I can no longer bear

Thine absence from me. Thine skin, being so far

A ways from mine own is but maddening

To my chastened self!

I must have you in my arms once more-

Feel thine paled soft skin against my palm-

Grasp thine long silky red locks that bestay me calm.”

I say to she.

No! I cannot remain in this loft

So far from her grasp!

I must see her- see her face,

The beauty that bestows itself upon she.

My love… My dearest love.

~

Date September 18th

“My love:

I have decided to call upon

Thee instead.

I shall arrive within less than a fortnight.”

~

Date October 1st

“No! These waters are impassable, my love.

They are hard with ice and snow is among me.

You must stay where you are-

Make no attempt in such a dangerous venture.”

My love.

My joy, please concur.

Write me assurance.

Tell me you will not sail.

~

Date October 25th

Dovanie!

My love?

Where have you gone?

Why have I not received word from you?

Have you set the sails and gone to?

My, dearest love, please do write me…

I clench my fist in fright for you, love.

~

Date October 27th

“My dearest Lovania :

I am sorry but I have

Received thine letter too late to reconsider.

I am currently on a vessel do north,

Your direction, my dear.

Pray for my safe arrival.

I shall be there soon.”

~

Dearest Goddess!

May you shadow him in your glove?

Oh!- that wretched man!

No… I should not curse his name or he may be damned.

I shall pray for his safe sail.

~

Date November 5th

Too long… too long, my love.

Where are you?

It is so cold… so cold the waters are.

Frozen-

Harder than the rocks that surround me.

These icy tears sprinkle my hair- my shoulders,

My gown.

The land is all but a bolder

White.

White with the snow that has fallen in dozens.

Where is my love?

My heart fills with the hope that he has not fallen.

~

Date November 26th

“My dearest Dovanie:

My heart is flooding with fright.

Tis been nearly a fortnight

And I have not heard from you.

Are you safe?

Should I wait for thee?

Should I lose hope and find another?

No… I would never do that.

My heart only belongs to thee

And I shall cleanse my spirit and remain pure.

No other shall receive this gift but you, my love.”

~

December 1st

I can no longer hope for your survival.

The storm is still so brutal and you- so silent were you.

I hold our letters tightly with redemption in the palms

Of my hands and pray for thine lost soul, my love.

I dress in black to mourn your loss.

I let my hair free- flow free in the breeze.

The sprinkles of white clouds continuously fall at me feet,

And I wonder, did thou suffer?

Did you hurt my love?

Should mourn stronger and faster in woe?

Is that something that should be entitled?

These fidgety limbs of mine do shake, wan

So suddenly from cold snowy air.

Our letters fall, gracefully, from my hands.

They float and fly for freedom,

Reaching for the stars as their utmost goal

Soaring desperately to reach that ample moon

Over the seas into snow peaked mountains,

Into the skies that glitter with light.

I’ll miss our letters, my dearest Dovanie.

But I must mourn now

And mourn a lone.

The Bliss of Love’s Desires (Poem)

The hot bliss of desires retreat

In a whole so deep you forget its elite

Never to be entered by the ones so weak

They are chased away to land so bleak

Aloud only to breathe in its own reek.

The stench of bliss growing solemn

If not so fake it chokes your mate

Leaving you alone an utter blank

To wallow alone in your desperate Hell

Along with the ones naïve enough to dwell.

 

The hot bliss of desires retreat!

There are none that wish for such heinous treats.

Though it be more trickery than treat you meet

Its loving betrayal is but all so desired

By souls so weak it’s no wonder she is so admired.

The single touch of a lover’s hand run up the spine

And down the leg leaving the faint tingle of a love tine

Sending sweet shivers down the line

Impriting with the lovers vine.

You’ve taken sip of this wonderous wine.

 

The hot bliss of desires rest

Beneath the sheets of love,

Kissing the tellers, unmuting their tongues

No longer disturbing the unkind dove.

Bequeathing the burning aches she confessed

Leaving the fire to burn in its nest

Out it goes in Hell’s ancient cone

To remind the demons of what love had once shone.