from the forest deep she came
like one jaguar gently prowling
drawn there by my late-day flame
typhoon in the distance howling
black hair with a coal-blue sheen
eyes like ink that shimmered golden
linen sun dress white and clean
tawdry tan with charms embolden
white-cap sea foam licked the sun
softly tasted sweet its brightness
melting ‘pon that briny tongue
sav'ring still the fading lightness
there beside those aqua oceans
palm fronds laid beneath the moon
with sublime and torrid motions
we let loose our fleshed typhoon
high above the Perseids streaming
wept those skies bright tears of fire
wishes granted - we thus dreaming
meant for fools to quite inspire
flightless angel birthed of darkness
wrapped me with her pinions warm
sacred embers - cold and sparkless
lost within that summer’s form ...
lost in her - my perfect storm.
* did you notice the change in metre? *
Should he justify himself
for his revengefulness,
which was the outcome
of a well-delivered response?
How bitter is the farewell to youth...
when one is close to scary death!
He wished that the portrait
on the wooden shelf
remained sparkless...
dusted by caring hands!
He wanted to be invincible,
although he seemed feeble;
the pedophile threatened and laughed
and menacingly incited a violent fight,
he was waiting for her father to tremble:
then a bullet ended his worthless life!
Silence dominated the silent street,
shadows hid his body covered with blood!
The red-headed girl was barely ten,
naked were her tender breasts;
" My daughter did not deserve this, "
she was murdered at the hands
of a killer, now she lies in an open coffin! "
May the judge keep me off the prison bars!"
I shouted out within my head,
Angry at the words and comments meant-
To do a task and get it done
I shall not do it! I want to run…
Alas, the adult me just standing there,
Not speaking up just raising my hair.
This hopeless grown-up with sparkless flares,
Who lost her wit, her game, her snare.
My inner me, that inner child,
‘You, the one that screamed and shouted loud!’
Whatever happened to that splendent child,
Independent speech yet strong and wild?
Little squirt who did not care,
For any hurt or demanding dare.
But stood her ground and made a sound,
When nothing suited her realm, her ground.
I need you now to show your face,
Not sweet and cute and ice-cream laced.
But confident in thoughtless words,
To state-
That’s no! I shall be heard!
01 September 2021
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
Raindrops on the rosebud,
And battlefields of blood,
And earth and sky in darkness,
And house and hill sparkless.
And shadow in the meadow,
And violets down below;
And birds sing to wood and dale
Of a recurring love tale!
The world yet is sleeping,
The ivy yet is creeping;
Soon awake dreaming land,
For redemption is at hand!
And petals soon open wide,
In the heat of morningtide!
And soldiers return anon,
Earth's battle wounds gone!
The brilliancy come at last!
And all sorrows in the past.
And joys of all things good--
Christ returns--He said He would!
from the forest, deep, she came
like a jaguar, quietly prowling
drawn there by my late-day flame
typhoon in the distance howling
black hair with a coal-blue sheen
eyes like ink and faultless gold
linen sun dress, white and clean
tawdry tan, with charms, untold
white-cap sea foam licked the sun
then softly tasted sweet, its bright
slo-melting on that briny tongue
and sav'ring still, the fading light
there beside the aqua ocean
palm fronds laid in proper form
with sublime and torrid motion
we let loose our perfect storm
high above, the Perseids streaming
wept the sky, with tears of fire
wishes granted - we, so dreaming
meant for fools to thus inspire
flightless angel birthed in darkness
wrapped me in her pinions, warm
sacred embers, cold and sparkless
burning for that summer storm ...
lost in her - my perfect storm.
The inner sphere of echoed thought beholds
The urn of changing vapor from the height
Of lost remembrance. Darkly, mist unfolds
A weight of madding blindness with such might
That all within the realm of misery is stirred
To joyless life, announcing its pursuit
Of softer voices, pantingly interred
By sparkless fires, unmoved in their dispute,
Outsoared by unextinguished will Earth’s gold to loot.
The mastery of unfulfilled descent
Within the madness of the shattered wreck
Which binds all light to us, dim mortals, lent
By desolation is for Phoenix birds to peck.
Indomitable as the burning heat
Of blazing suns whose rays descend on me,
The task of breathing is a hurtful feat
Whose worth is hard indeed to see.
What oracle might have foreseen my fate’s decree?
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Time fell fast
Things became hard
Worries were vast
Lives begain scared
Hopes endlessly hidden
All things seemed forbidden
Days filled with darkness
Lives consumed and left sparkless
Awaiting the doom
Sitting only in gloom
Heaven wept
No souls were kept