Twilight’s Despair

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .


she sits alone upon the stair
golden highlights in her hair
wearied head against the wall
fearing yet another fall
love’s pure beauty to obtain
to rouse herself to climb again
takes the mettle she fears she lacks
as witnessed by tear’s bitter tracks
yet loathe she is to descend
and mourn another sad love’s end
thus she sits upon the stair
twilight deepening to despair

ceg 7.12.08


From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .


saucy and sinuous
high-heeled fantasy
long-legged dream
she knows she makes them stare
and dare
to believe she could be theirs
dark-eyed beauty
exotic vision
ravishing reverie
she gathers their awed appreciation
and wears them in her hair

ceg 7.12.08

Beware the Whirlwind

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .


tell me, old mother, how
how do i make him love me?
i will tell you, child for
the shiny coppers in your hand
they are yours, old mother
please, please tell me the secret
dirt from his foot steps
hair from his head
what, tell me what
do i do with those things?
burn them and grind them
and feed them to your true love
thank you, dear mother
i will do so tonight
beware, young daughter
a warning i give you before you depart
a warning, for me, dear mother
but why and of what?
beware the whirlwind, young girl
for it is the devil dancing with his witch
old mother, for that i would give
the rest of my coppers to see
nay, my child for if
you get too close
yes, please tell me, what
what if i get too close?
they’ll catch you up body and soul
and take you with them straight to helland did the child listen to the old woman’s words?
i’m afraid i don’t know, but this i can say;
never was the girl seen again
since that night when the winds howled
through the trees and the sounds of gypsy
laughter danced in the leaves

ceg 12.31.08

Once I Was

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives


 have i not engendered love
or the sweetness of a song?
a thought or two sent to me
when morning crowns the skies
fragile as a whispered dream?
perhaps i hope too much
for memories are but tender things
once i was a rose

ceg 12.26.08


From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives


 sweet Corinna sits and waits
and throws her caution to the Fates
Clotho spins her golden thread
while Lachesis measures in her stead
Ah, Atropos, she of dread
Cuts the life just barely led
sweet Corinna sits and prays
as she counts her numbered days


Skin Deep

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .

The Kiss (detail)  Gustav Klimt~The Kiss

he never could discern just what the flower
was that curved delicately down her hip bone
to her upper thigh and then disappeared
somewhere behind her knee, trailing
tendrils of green and lavender
she had told him once-was it lilac?
or something else-wisteria?
she had not been a delicate girl
her hair a ruddy red and a spray
of freckles across her body
her jaw was a bit too square and her
eyes tried to be green, but were
grey and smoky
her arms told of her strength and
she could drink most men under
the table, telling dirty jokes to make
a sailor blush
but that traveling flower down her
leg, from hip to knee always made
him see her as something ethereal
and dainty; how he loved to kiss that
purple ink, leaving a trail of moisture
on her pale skin
he would lie awake at night
alone in his narrow bed and wish that
he had learned to love more than
just that tattoo

ceg 11.2.11

The Life she Led

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .


she probably had a boy who loved her, once upon a time
they may have held hands on the walk to school
or kissed under the fiery light of sunsets
i imagine that her lips were waiting many years to be kissed
the way they were meant to be kissed
and that her body ached to be held and loved by that boy
she was ordinary in the most extraordinary way
and would often be found writing fragments of verses
in book margins or envelopes even once on a sugar packet
she dreamed about songs and how words could be
woven into the strands of her hair, secrets for only his eyes
and she learned to wait and to be patient, drenching herself
in prayers and hopes and see the world with the sweetness
of lavender sachets hidden away in the deepest part of her heart

ceg 11.12.11

When the Sun Rises

From adventofreason’s Xanga Archives . . .



when you close your eyes
that is where you will find me
before dreams take you
you escape earth’s bonds
floating in and out of sleep
until you claim me
your nocturnal bride
bedecked in silvery stars
gliding on moonbeams
holding your heart dear
eyes filled with gentle longing
your name on my lips
no distance nor time
or the shackles of this earth
dare keep us apart
when the sun rises
we are drawn again earthward
spirits still entwined
ceg 7/21/11