Summer's End.

Within this stone,lies a heart buried deep. Silent,still,hollow it beats no more. Where once love blossomed true only to be cut down at summers end. Once she graced this earth with beauty.Forgotten but for he who loved her. Dear John she called him. He waits as the days turn into winter. Waiting for death to call.


I was too late for the last prompt so I used them both to tell my story.

The Threshold

the threshold none can cross
invited you must be
all things of darkness cannot pass
shadows of the fallen of long ago

they rage and scream in silence
withering swaying back and forth
but none can enter uninvited
for the threshold is built strong as the cross

it burns and stings their rotted skin
still they are trapped in thick undulating air
safety lies within the spell you cast
the wards block the way a holy shield

strong the wizard a warden for all man kind
his power born from what fills his soul,heart and mind
all whom seek asylum must hold the threshold whole
against black shapes that wait in the dark

never let it go..

Eve In The Garden

an apple
once picked long ago
in summer
by her hand
she must know knowledge within
darkness fills the world

Sun Blind

blind in the sun light
my deep set eyes dead orbs
yet the sun warms me

I can hear the sea
echos fill my clouded eyes
my soul peels away

hot rain falls lightly
layer after layer melts
once more my eyes see

Storm Winds

wind weaves through tree tops
the leaves turn up and over
clouds race the dark storm

Sweet Lily

wearing but a woven crown of pale lilies
her blacken skin slick with sweat
glistens, a mirror without an image

each movement, each step silent
her body tense, she pauses...listening intently
to the sounds around her
garnet lips form a half smile
she moves once again...invisible
in the the fading light

mute speaking no language
the sound of the wind, the birds of the air
called out as she passed,a patron well known
her shade having no form no substance yet dense
she cast spells and patterns against the broad leaves

some sought her of legend
some for the touch of her hot hot flesh
some a kiss from her blooded mouth
some the feel of her velvet musky skin

sweet lily was she...
sweet her scent to taste
while man's being burned with desire...
tossing and turning in slumber
while white the glow of a lily
she comes in a dream

sweet Lily was she...with a bitter sting
sweet dark as the night she savored
sweet the reaping of men's hearts...
pulsating with each beat
death, decay, dust and ashes lie in her wake

sorrowful Lily not she...
meekly, the fools followed as carrion she made
quick to the core, flaying their souls...
men's lustful natures betraying any hope

unredeemed, a nightmare that never ends
wet dripping...she carries them one by one
in her cold cruel cruel hands
sweet Lily was she...a gift to man
abandoned all to the alter of fate

News

Dear friends and readers. I have once again been very ill. Feeling some what better. Hope to be writing soon.


Melanie