To Sit Upon the Front Porch Swing on a Summer Evening
The wind is cool, the air warm, thick, sultry. Birds sing their good night songs. Mosquitoes buzz, fireflies flicker.
Close your eyes. Breathe. The scent of honeysuckle, roses, jasmine, wisteria. And the rain.
For, when you open your eyes, you see clouds. Dark blue, menacing. And then, in the midst of the cricket song, of the cicada serenade, Thunder rumbles. Low, distant, a menace that soothes.
A riot of color fills the eyes. Flowers in rainbow shades, a kaleidoscope of hues. Purple wisteria, creamy honeysuckle, scarlet bougainvillea, White oleander, crimson roses, and yellow jasmine.
And ivy. In sunlight preternaturally green, in moonlight silvery black. But always beautiful, always dangerous. For, in the South, ivy is poison, A feast for the eyes, but the hand must not touch.
Softly, the rain begins to fall. Clouds, gray, gloomy, threatening, darken the sky. Lightning flashes, illuminating the night. Thunder booms, crackles, crashes, Answering the roar of the wind.
Then, sudden as it began, the rain slows, falling gently. Upon the leaves, the grass, the flowers. Thunder rolls, like waves across the lightening sky. A breeze carries the cool night air.
The song of the owl joins the chorus of the night. Frogs croak, shadows dance And the South rests, for her spell is cast.
Very very nice. Extremely beautiful. I'm guessing you live in the south?
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DRAGON BLESSING
May dragons bring you wealth and guard your treasures May they banish darkness and enlighten you May female dragons grant you inner power May the Dragon Queen neutralize your enemies May Dragon Spirits give you power over Elementals May weather dragons bring rain at your request May Ti'amat effect the changes you command May Ishtar grant you Dragon Power May Ishtar grant you Dragon Power
I really enjoyed it. Do you write often? I love keeping journals but I am more of an artist than a writer so my pages are usually filled with pictures as opposed to poems. I wish I could write though. You do it very well.
-Cheers Em
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Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it can only be attained through understanding. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson If you judge people you have no time to love them. ~Mother Teresa
Thank you very much. I don't write as often as I used to, but still pick up a pen when the mood strikes me, sometimes with tragic results, lol. Well be of good cheer, I can't even draw descent stick people!
In has been a millennium now, since Sol has caressed me with gentle fingers, Yet, even now, after all this time, that dazzling memory teasingly lingers. For now, the cool darkness of night is my only haven, As I continue to live my life in the shadow of the raven.
The song of the nightingale heralds the dawn of the moon, But, of this, I am already apprised in my dungeon tomb. The Hunger sends me towards the village across the meadow, Condemning the next mortal who falls beneath my cursed shadow.
In my mind, I can taste the sweet, yet metallic flavor Of the human life I am soon to savor. My body is ruthlessly wracked by hunger pangs Which dangerously elongate my deadly fangs.
I am in a hell of yearning, The Hunger within me desperately churning. The price is high, the consequences dire, The scalding heat of Hell?s eternal fire.
Sometimes, the Hunger is insatiable, overcoming my considerable will, And I am unable to resist the lust for blood, the urge to kill, The need to drink and drink and drink, To completely drain my victim, to fill myself to the brink.
At the mere thought, the Hunger within me stirs, The beast within me waking, riding me with whip and spurs.
Nightly, I am driven by a need beyond hunger, an agony beyond pain, If I don?t appease it, it will drive me slowly insane. The Hunger is like a wild beast, living off blood and the scent of fear, Raging madly, clawing at my vitals, as relief draws near.
My mouth waters, the Hunger becomes a need, A monster that awakens within me a merciless greed.
It is truly rather frightening, Liquid flames coursing through your veins like lightning. The beat of their heart, like an echo inside me, hums, Like the sound of distant drums.
Through my veins goes a sinuous thrill, In joyous anticipation of the kill.
In that instant, we become one, And, for one moment, I can see the sun. For one, brief, shining moment, I can see its brilliant light, A glimpse of paradise, for a demon of the night.
In that moment, we both find peace, As the torment within me begins to cease. At last, the Hunger is temporarily appeased, And its merciless grip upon me continues to ease.
?Tis a war my heart constantly wages, Against the Hunger that has driven me throughout the ages. I am consumed with a self-loathing beyond hatred that takes a heavy toll. It is the cost of having surrendered, for the sake of an immortal body, my immortal soul.
The true death has beckoned sweetly at times, Like a beautiful siren, luring me with her celestial rhymes. My despair surrounds me in a darkness as silent as the grave, Riding me as ruthlessly as the hunger for the blood that I crave.
The song of the lark tells the world the sun has risen, But, of this, I am already aware in my cadaverous prison. The dreaded lethargy pulls me down like a weight of lead, And, like every day for centuries before, I sleep the sleep of the undead.
When I rise, the Hunger will send me towards the village across the meadow, Condemning the mortal who next falls beneath my cursed shadow. I will fly through the night without a sound, With the speed of a creature eternally damned.
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If you ever publish a collection, let me know. I'd love to buy a copy. I don't quite see physically what attracts me to your work. But there's something else
May the mysteries Work their magic in the world mysteries unexplained of the world beyond Listen as it reaches as it calls Calls your name your name, as human your name as spirit
Through time Through history Through joy And through pain May the word May thy word live on
My thy word live on and echo in ears for ages to come When you're long gone stories are told by insects When stories are told of a race called humans May thine be a story they tell.
My message to thee became a stream, M'lady. And as such changed form. Best wishes
Thank you very much, Aaediwen. I don't know about a collection, I don't write very often anymore. However, there is more of my poetry posted on my website. Just click the link below, and then go to Dyna's Poetry Page using the drop-down menu.
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Checked out "That Autumn Night" Scary isn't it. Krystalnacht. God/Goddess bless whose who lost their lives in those dark years, and those who live with memories that we who were not there, cannot fathom.
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