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Grace Hunter Poem
See that pastel world
realm of green lawns and mansions.
An elite kingdom.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
A bunch of dead leaves.
They cling on the eaves,
verging on falling
killed by frost.
Coating the earth.
Sweaty brow that furrows in
thought as the wind pushes.
Leaving them only to fly
back--can’t get them all–
the fruits of this labor
eternal and constant
as the dead petals
Back and forth.
Cold, crisp rhythm
sweeping out the old.
Time tested,
true auburn harmony.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
There’s nothing goddess-like
about those moonbeams
silver glowing arch
not of your back
soft and inviting
but of your bow
cold and piercing
silent slayer.
There’s nothing to adore
within your face
gleaned from marble
glossed immortality
as you condemn with
opal eyes.
There’s everything wrong
with my animal lust
stag in mating season
wanting your body
more than life itself
denied by your
virginal lock.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
Gray rosebuds, crumpled oak
lead to a littered path
your concrete domicile,
aged with painful years.
A caustic soul lies hidden
within the attic of my mind.
Dust-ridden and lost under
lovers past.
Enfold my hands in yours,
flesh and bone. Rock and
silt bind our fingers loosely–
dry dirt slipping away.
Like our love and our lives.
Steps and turns and passageways.
Closed doors and ripped floors.
I left you dying
you left me crying
Left me sorting out the pile
of memories in the foyer;
things I try to piece together
now that you’re gone.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
As if I had recently died and saw
the house from a new angle,
where I now stood outside this
defiled square, my husband’s
weekend home improvement.
I should have let him watch the game--
Yellow paint a summer sunrise
fluorescent, searing.
Blinding the neighbors
making me cry.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
Make me taste the brandy
devour your lips whole
taste testing your soul.
In the glass maze where we
display carnal interaction,
they see us entwined.
Café au lait lips, pale caramel hips
I let you melt over me–
all the joy and the ease.
We couldn’t stop now if we tried.
Your voice growls sex sure howls
from the hollow depths at the
base of your throat. Tell me again
why we don’t merge into the clouds
under their relentless, heat-laden stare.
Envious cloaks garnish the onlookers.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
Appalled, dazed, secretive
we run to your hidden room
above the roses in the arbor.
Really a cheap motel,
but I like to pretend.
Forbidden fuels passion,
and hunger is satisfied.
Hold him to his actions,
let him know what he gave
means permanence...
I demand he keeps the promise
of true love
or die.
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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Grace Hunter Poem
Cold snow melts down
my hot throat
We’re smelling fresh pine
not from some aerosol can
but of roots from the earth
as he slices away years of
maturity, landing on top of our car–
Oh Christmas tree
I can taste the wood floating
in the air; crunchy splinters
on my tongue
Holly, berries with red bows
adorn the front door
December outfit, winter decor
The lights
a bright trail in our indoor forest
leading little hands to the gifts below
Objects fly in circles
I juggle them fast
a holiday jester–
turkey
stuffing
tape
scissors
ornaments
paper.
Batteries for toys
kids screaming for joy
relatives who annoy
this season’s a ploy
that’s sent me into poverty...
Copyright © Grace Hunter | Year Posted 2006
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