My Jeweled Rose

My Jeweled Rose

These eyes first beheld the beauty before me,
my thoughts were just a few;
strangely reminded of a woman in Rosa’s Cantina
whom Marty Robbins spoke of in a tale in El Paso
that took the lives of just two.

These eyes that flashed from a face framing
such beauty, dark and inquisitive, sparkling and joyous;
eyes expressing laughter, pearl white teeth shining
as light lent its aura on her person wondrous.

These eyes gazed upon loveliness manifest, framed
with hair that radiated umber hues;
my heart spun out of control, I steeled my judgement
to hold fast least I scatter my emotions before her
as a member who pays his dues.

These eyes beheld her as would a dumbstruck school lad
upon meeting a beautiful teacher might stumble
about for days lost and confused;
just as I feel right now my mind tempered with passionate
desires and endless fires burning inside my chest threatening
to consume me.

These eyes trembled with pleading,
come to me sweet dearest where we will embrace as lovers,
dancers, minds closed to all else spinning about
faster and faster not knowing who’s leading.

Pledge loyalty as mine and I for you, leave us not
to whisper in shadows as this is not what dreams
are made of, nor will such do.

Just please be mine, pleasant starlight,
if you are willing and music will become
ours for loves eternal healing.

Poetry Thursday.

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Sunlight Awakens Beauty

Sunlight Awakens Beauty

Night shrouds the beauty of the day,
Blossoms closed against the nights decay.
Spirits move about endlessly searching,
while sleeping flowers are resting.

Darkness encompasses like the arms about a friend,
ensures the most basic need of desire without end.
To wayward night creatures darting to and fro,
a sense that bounty is near for those that glow.

Power of sunlight held deeply within flowers,
bugs alight but the visit is unnoticed by powers;
heralding only to the Sun whose breath is a blessing.
Like the Night and the creatures against which the flower
endured was but an interlude, a testing.

Last Run

Running through the middle of the street,
seems safer, no shadows, less fear, the sense
of pain no less i hear.

Running from the lie, peace not found; death does
not care if you are standing up or laying down.

Running from the hurt, agony and dread, bullets
in the chest makes constant blood that is shed,
as the body’s actions wind down. No more running
for me, as i sink to the ground. Street is wet from
a newly fallen rain; the sweet taste of the street is
like nectar to my brain.

Running down the seconds like a childs wind up
toy, my life ebbs from my chest as water down
the drain. Death is a friend so close and now is
simply so clear; for the end of my life is finally
here.

Running from the pain gave me no sweet relief;
anger, then hope, then sorrow when found without
help. So i fled for my life which was already taken.

Running was wise; for her it is why i died, so her kisses
not tasted; perhaps in another life might be found.

Juliett Seeking

Juliet Seeking

Where I am is quiet most days,
there are those who visit daily;
rarely any one who stays. 

My bell rings on its own,
as the wind dictates, 
or as the storm rages and shakes.

My prison is stifling above all else,
dreams for us long since tattered;
oh how stupid I felt, nothing now mattered. 

I heard the sound of your footsteps,
frantically searching among the places
where I and others are in prison; 
we care not for life’s niceties,
or for the people who secured us soundly;
no our desires are simply met,
fresh air first, then a change of clothes.

These rags we wear are all torn,
recrimination later for those
who stole our shoes;
imprisoned or not, there is not much to do. 

My faithful watcher gave up on me
as I fought back to this life,
mumbling some thing about a tankard of ale;
one lead to two so ends that tale. 

You were crying with your frustration
of a dear friend long gone;
swallowed up or did some one do him wrong.

I blame only myself for this current predicament;
had I thought things through I would still touch you.

I loved your golden hair as it framed your face,
or tickled mine when we both reclined; 
you atop, me below,
for the passerby and friends it was show;

night showed our true passions,
our hunger for each other,
there was not a position we had not explored,
not a style we chose to decline.

Whether our love was whispered in the alcoves,
booths or in circles; we cared not,
we were fully aware that they know.
T’was not important how much they knew,
I was insanely in love all told.

Which indeed leads me to the thick of this plot,
bear with me a moment longer please,
 every story has its ending;
as did I seeing you upon the divan,
not breathing was more than i could stand,
reeling and stunned i grabbed a vial of
smoky liquid and downed it in one gulp. 
My logic you see, was to join you quickly least
you grow tired of waiting and dejected,
leave me for another.

Those who arrived later found one
sleeping deeply, the other not so;
thus here I am hearing your approach
and reaching for my bell cord only to
find it frayed and rotted by time. 

I smell you; your beauty.
the hair sweeping about you,
as frantically you seek me,
though dishonored I wait and hope,
as do my fellow prisoners.
I can almost touch your foot,
your dress is somber, a dull gray,
you look better in bright colors,
ankles I have swept my lips across
as I kissed and caressed your feet,
oh, the joy we had intertwined,
bodies responding,
breathing rhythmically our minds lost;
we still meet.

Now all past save for your searching,
pausing by me I see all of you, treasured heart,
do you not feel me, do you not sense me
near in this crush of bodies;  
I love you beyond measure,
oh curse this prison,
this room,
this coffin,
my shell,
…you walk away