Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail
Generous nature nurturing our plants and family too
Altruism sprinkled with lots of hopes and loving care
Reaching for the sun and spreading warmth to many souls
Daffodils her Springtime flower pushing through the ground
Energetic grandchildren are fertilized with play
Neila My Forever Love, The Gardener of My Dreams
©2013 Rick Zablocki
There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home
Old bells chime clear in the night air;
Bats fly low and swoop on the *tare.
It’s wrong of me to hold your hand?
In the last of sun’s rays, gold band.
A white mist rolls in from the sea;
It shrouds and cloaks you and me.
I can drown in your corn blue eyes;
Your gaze is where all my hope lies.
Crops sway in the air on firm stem;
Ripe on the cream stalks which bear them.
Our love we do not speak of alone
But we are ripe in our age and one.
Weeds had grown in all of our lives,
dictate direction of our drives.
Dedicated to my husband, Ben.
*Tare [Pronounced ter]: In the Bible, a weed found growing among crops, usually considered to be darnel.
Darnel: Any of several usually weedy ryegrasses (genus Lolium)
Rhyming couplets chased by an un-rhymed couplet.
Walk with me
the water's edge,
when the sun
and sea have met...
Our shadow's long,
the day is gone,
but it's not
dark just yet...
A kiss, and passion
fills our souls,
as the beauty
of the night unfolds...
- in silhouette,
we share the stars
beyond the sunset...
Copyright © 2011
Written September 8, 2013
Hey dear lover
Can you make me a believer in another
We both know that it's killing us this way
'Cause the ends of the earth still move
And the falling leaves dance in circles
All around you
Cutting holes in the paper
On which I write this letter
Saying, "I really hope that this gets better"
For the sake of involved
Before this binding resolution gets resolved
But I don't mind chasing thunder
Through the darkest nights
But if I never find the light
Then I just might lose my sight, over you
But what's the use
You've only caused me more and more abuse
That's why I write this letter
Saying, "why'd I ever think that it'd get better"
Love is my nest.
It holds me
where all the world I see.
It saves me
from the ground
which my soul will never meet.
Up in a forest tree
hunters scattering in threes
they'll never catch me
I have love.
I am perfectly happy.
relaxed I am
I do not stress
for there isn't life
without my nest.
who cares what's below?
I am above.
love is my nest
My nest is my love.
Each dawn, the cold steps back a pace,
And in the lengthening light the tender green steals up
Through the retreating ice and snow
As the lands rise fresh and free from the deathlike sleep again,
To play the full young mother dressed out in life itself,
Strolling through the warming, waxing sun.
Growth and generation give the lie
To the empty time so short before
Everything renewed proclaims its exoneration from stasis
And beauty runs riot, freed from its long waiting
To declare its immortality again.
And for he and she love grows anew
In the hopes reborn in the spring's thaw
The heart's slow healing gathers force with the blooming
As they pull the threads of their lives back together,
Sewing them closer with trust and forgiveness,
Going on again in the thousand-odd ways
That make a single life of two.
Love trumpets again its smug triumph
Through the wakening world,
For it too is one of the old, strong forces,
The one that holds together what would fain break itself apart
To its own rack and ruin;
The ultimate surgeon,
Healing with slow steely cuts
Cauterizing the strangely sweet wells of pain
With unquenchable fire
bulb, pit, core, root
I like to keep them out of my boot.
entrance, exit, port, hatch
I have one made of thatch.
candy, sweets, pie, cake
Those are what I eat and bake.
rescue, help, assist, recover
Someone to save I will discover.
hitched, matched, wedded
This is one thing I've always dreaded.
Wrapped close, in implacable, bitter embrace,
The winter grips the land and holds it immobile,
The cat upon its mouse.
Stripped bare and glazed with stony ice
Ashudder beneath a slatecloud sky
That drops its snow in a hush of crowding dimness,
A white leaden mantle
Is lain over empty fields, piling 'round the trunks of skeletal trees
Standing soberly and waving their bony branches in the frozen air
The twilight days light a world now comatose,
Drawn in against the cold and huddled like
Some invalid giant shorn of all his strength,
Lying stretched half slain across the firmament
Gazing into nothing with a distant blank stare
As scattered carrion birds wheel against a wan canvas,
Those two in their little house circle 'round as well,
Moving without purpose through the events of their lives
As the cold outside seeps into the rooms
Invading their thoughts
To make them tremble
Shaken in the blindness of their desperation,
And though the fire blazes orange-warm in the hearth,
Defending this inside space from the day's deep gloom,
Autumnal sorrows have collected in the silence
And worn their hearts weary with cares,
And thus the spirit's wounds have festered and widened,
Filling with the poison of despair.
Soft sparks the glow of the fire makes in his tired eyes,
Reflecting wild fears that her love is lost;
They dance in his mind, stabbing with a pain
That knows no cure.
Long the time he just looks at her,
This life that chose to be with him always,
And he sees that
The hurt that came between,
He cannot bear that she leave him
Condemned to go on without her,
Her thoughts for him are much the same,
Though she says it not.
Yet when at last he reaches out across the table
And takes her hand in his,
She looks up, and for one long moment
They two become the lone human pair
In all of space and time,
And in one another's moist crystalline gaze
They read a deep sweet tale
In a language without words.
And something breaks
In that moment when she gently folds
Her delicate fingers over his,
Looking down again with a schoolgirl smile
Spreading irresistable over her face.
Outside, in the blackness of the star-shot night,
And waters run clear beneath the snow.