Butterflies float
With petals and feathers
In every note
Of your voice. In its tenor -
Nectarine, white,
Full of light, full of sky -
There is delight -
And I will not ask why
Sometimes your voice
Shimmers like a bright star -
Sometimes it's close
Sometimes it's far
Sometimes I hear in it
Rivers and streams
Sometimes I see in it
Passions and dreams
Sometimes it crests
Like a wave in a sea
Sometimes it nests
Like a bird in a tree
Sometimes it rings
Like a vanishing bell
Sometimes it sings
As if casting a spell -
Sometimes it flings
Like a lasso, ensnares
Prey. Or grows wings
And then flies everywhere -
Sometimes it drops
Like a leaf from an oak
Sometimes it stops
Like a belltower clock
Sometimes it wafts
Like a sweet summer breeze
Or like a raft
It floats over the seas -
Sometimes I feel it
Caressing my ear
Holding me in it
Drawing me near.
Sometimes I glimpse
What your voice holds within
When it so seems,
I can fully glean
Its warmth and softness
Its passion and peace
Then I am lost in
The most perfect bliss.
Every night, the sky speaks its star language,
More often, I am carried away at sight,
To learn its colored, cool and bright message.
If I had listened attentively right,
I would have discovered how stars do move.
If I had study enough grace it shares,
I would have embrace the moon's beauty groove,
And the undaunted brightness it ensnares.
I only learnt the brightness of the moon,
And the sparkling little light of the stars,
That celebrate how its shining lights croon,
Its absence on lonely moon's skin: smooth scars.
Beauty of the night may bring a deep fright,
A miss will be a guise heightened contrite.
The pretty campus damsel
Is on the rove this nigh night
She easily ropes in loaded men
As she gyrates her curvy bosom
Her Torrie's remind one of nivarna
And you can see Catalonia peaking
From the little black dress she wears
She undaunted that we are on campus
With girlies being on plentie Barbie rules
And ensnares with ease and natural charm
She's a beauty to behold and loves dances
On the dance floor she easily baits boys
Be they boys or men her nature easily snares
As long as you're pickups are loaded
You are enroute to this exiting encounter
Falcon heights are soars and shores you win
With her you will sure taste the allures of
Zamzam that beautiful city of beauty
Tasting what is the reserve of demigods
Hoping you are not eternally damned
For love is but a divine thing and sensual
Sensualized forbidden pleasures she wares
Oh, what is this thing called love?
It's a concept I don't understand.
Delight that occurs at first sight?
Or can it be carefully planned?
Is it something that lasts for all time,
or will it run into the sand?
Would Priapus profit from praise,
or should he be promptly trepanned?
Is love as elusive as luck,
or can it be had on demand?
A candle that burns all alone,
or a flame to be furiously fanned?
Is love like a light in the soul,
that will last and endure and withstand?
Is it not just a chemical shot,
just a spurt or a squirt from a gland?
Does this love thing ennoble us all,
or should it be totally banned?
A danger to all it ensnares,
or something incurably bland?
A bonus and boon for mankind,
that ought to be loose in the land,
or a danger deserving restraint,
to be chained and detained on remand?
Oh, what's this enigma named love?
Allurement? Procurement? Command?
Will it harm me, or charm me, I ask:
should I fake it, or take it in hand?
In the sanctuary of the heart, where dreams are born,
Where memories dance to the silent rhythm of time,
A secret hides, an untold story,
Of a wandering soul, in search of lost peace.
Through the labyrinth of thoughts, where shadows play,
In a forgotten corner, where hopes rest,
Lies a treasure, a memory of love from long ago,
An echo of a song, still resonating in the depths.
But, in the darkness of night, when stars hide,
She appears, with her pale and mysterious face,
With hands cold as ice, she ensnares me in her web,
And pulls me into her depths, an abyss without end.
She is the witch of the night, with her powerful spell,
With words sweet as honey, she seduces and deceives me,
Makes me lose myself in the maze of memories,
And leaves me wandering in a world without hope.
But, deep in my soul, a spark still flickers,
A ray of hope that refuses to fade,
That maybe, one day, I'll find the way back,
And be free once more, in the arms of true love.
Lavender answers tens of curiosities.
Loosens the distressed air that ensnares joys.
Lays down burdens,
lifting capsized brains.
Lowers sleepless moods, returning dreams.
Licks away seething spirits armed with calamitous seeds.
Lean close to its essence as an insatiable lover does.
Not Anne, But Gabrielle
by Gabrielle Munslow
If you want me to take you to another time,
take my hand.
Don’t furrow your brow.
Slick with storylines,
my tongue twists
like an adder.
Poetry spills—
some good, some bad,
but always real.
I write of suffering.
I write of death.
I write of want.
No pretty, prophetic prose.
But I can still
slip a ditty off my toes.
I am Anne with an E.
No bird.
No net ensnares me.
Still, I rest,
and language thrills my bones.
Time stills—
or quickens.
Language isn’t luxury;
it’s necessity.
Down rabbit holes I go,
deep and twisted.
I braid my breath into roots.
I speak to the dirt,
and it answers.
Once a girl.
Now a woman,
retelling her youth.
I
am not Anne with an E.
I am Gabrielle—
with poems for sale.
?
© 2025 Gabrielle Munslow. All rights reserved.
This poem may not be reproduced, distributed, or performed without the author’s permission.
Tending anger’s
raging garden
seeds lie
burnt and dire
Each fiery breath
a vine ensnares
with thorns
of bloody ire
Tending anger’s
furrowed hate
with vehement
acclaim
A tirade lost
within the rows
of dark
— unending pain
(The New Room: December, 2024)
Ohhhhh, addiction, a cage, A cage that not only ensnares the body but the soul. Ohhhh, addiction, the cankerworm, That gnaws through the roots of success.
"Just one more," it whispers, "This game is nice..." And it lures you deeper, Feeding thoughts of endless indulgence, Urging you to continue that addictive behavior.
Ohhhh, youths, ohhh, children, flee! This thing, or should I say, spirit, Is a storm, a relentless storm, A tempest that will consume your youth, Overtake your destiny if it is not destroyed.
They ask, "How do we destroy it?" Is this a rhetorical question, Or can it actually be answered? That, my dear youths, is left for you to decide, To find the strength within, to break free.
For addiction is a shadow, A shadow that clings to the spirit, Whispering lies, sowing seeds of doubt, But within you lies the power, The power to rise above, to conquer the darkness.
So, stand tall, stand strong, In the face of this storm, For today, you are a warrior, Armed with the knowledge, That tomorrow, you can be free.
When what I wrote is hard to read,
the crowd goes, Whoa, not touching that.
Perhaps someone should intercede
to edit out the ghoulish splat.
It’s not clear why my mind goes there;
the childhood fever might be it.
My mother often voiced despair,
but I prefer macabre wit.
Beneath calm seas, menacing kelp
ensnares the otter fleeing Jaws.
My wife’s convinced I should seek help
to find the underlying cause.
Though I in earnest sometimes try,
the animals just seem to die.
No one else compares
To the man who oft ensnares
My own heart and soul
With the power of his soul,
Always making me feel whole.
In the still of night, where shadows play,
A specter's heart beats, lost in dismay.
For once it loved, with a fire so bright,
Now it wanders alone, in the absence of light.
The ghost of a touch, a whisper of lips,
Haunts the lover's soul, as time slips.
Eternal longing, a desire unmet,
A love so deep, it ensnares like a net.
"Come back to me," the phantom implores,
To the beloved who walks the living shores.
But silence answers, a void so cruel,
In the realm of the dead, love is but a ghoul.
Yet still it yearns, through the veil of death,
Breathing memories with its ethereal breath.
A haunting love, that refuses to die,
An undying flame, in the afterlife's sigh.
So beware the love that never finds rest,
It lingers on, an unwelcome guest.
For even in death, the heart will pine,
A haunting love, both cursed and divine.
Satiny softness surrounds me as your touch
ensnares me in ardent, consuming passion
for which there is no exultation too much.
I desire no respite, escape, dispassion
as I am your unrelenting paramour
offering a safe harbor for you to moor.
Stay with me upon this sea of ecstasy
and we shall conceive our lasting legacy.
With wings of golden starlight your spirits flare
Each woman burst forth a steadfast astral pyre
Your valiant souls are / defying / confining
the tethered snare
Like distant suns that are piercing the boundless mire
With hearts unyielding you are shatter iron grates
Your unshackled wings where shadows once confined
And in your touch,
love's caresses, gentle graces
A serenade of voices, together
softly intertwined.
Through time's grand halls your histories reside
Your footprints pressing...
on ever-shifting sands
With every single verse
a truth you cannot hide
For you mend the world with...
steady guiding hands
O gracious women, blessed with beauty /
fierce and bold.
In every realm
your being we cherish
and behold.
-----
“No matter how tired you are, no matter how physically exhausting this work may be, it's beautiful to bring a smile into someone's life, to care for someone in need. What greater joy can there be?” Mother Teresa
"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will." - Charlotte Brontë
Is it acceptable to blaze so fervently?
Aflame with longing for the unattainable
To crave melting in their embrace
An emotion beyond understanding
Persistently yearning for their words
To partake in the exchange of energies
Uncover the details of their day
And unravel the threads of their plans
To yearn for a replay of our last encounter
Reliving the moments of entwined lips
Bodies swaying to a well-known cadence
This sensation ensnares me
Every attempt to escape is futile
You draw me back, compelling me to ask:
Is it permissible to burn with such intensity?
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