Mirror

Fathomless glass pools

Casting truth's light on my prose

Reflecting my soul

Love Whispers

Of native passion

We do ourselves meet

Tender sweeps upon fierce heat

The Wind

Overtures sound as
Mother Nature sighs
Hollow rushes willows weep

Deliverance

Moving ever so slow but moving still,

a cold war grips and binds my soul.

When will Truth return and set Despair to flee?

Like a tunnel-work jeering and blasting, 

darkness invades and burrows deep.

Moving ever so slow but moving still.

Tenderness evades my withered grasp;

Mirth succumbs to grief and droops to frown.

When will Truth return and set Despair to flee?

Cynical dullness shadows mine eyes

as pandemonium denies the warming Sun.

Moving ever so slow but moving still.

Scalding humiliation tempers my tears

and long my cross no more can I bear.

Pray! Truth will return and set me free.

Exhaustion overcomes and drowns me in slumber 

whilst Hope soothes my ragged-born blunder.

Moving ever so slow but moving still

patient Truth will ever be and send Despair to hell.

(~1994)

Deceiver

The wily, spindly spider moved
atop his silver-knitted web
adorned with sequined spots of dew
alluring Innocence to bed.

Hell Incarnate sits a'weaving,
disturbing, twisting, pleading breath.
His banner colors cry for Death!