Whew! Can't blame Girard for his boredom; twenty years of feeding the Master like that...but how long will it take for the blond boy across the street to become weary of being Sully's flavor of the day? I shudder.
Cider Press
Now take me to your secret lair
out in the barn, beneath the stair,
and lay me out as you desire
to press your weight upon me there.
And while I am as you require
within that place where we retire,
the season's tastes I will express
are warmer than an autumn fire.
My blushing skin will you undress,
beneath you all my moves confess,
my urgent need to be remade,
so by your arts my body bless.
Transform me then, I'm not afraid,
for in
Love may or may not conquer all, but it certainly helps make some things more palatable. And 'lovable nerd' feels so good, you caused a discernible blush. thank you so much for reading these, Gary!
Two immensely sad poems. I hear arguments and silence in these, minor disagreements magnified into major conflicts, and deep hurt. If you hear my hand on yours, close enough to ease pain, then poetry has done its task.
I send you my hugs and encouragement for Closure. You are indeed loved. Silly Cat made me laugh, for you describe the once-mighty feline to a T. Thank you for these.
What a chapter of alarms and diversions. Don's mystery pain had me terribly worried. But then there was that sensation and that twitch...the wedding and Harry pushing Louis to start an affair... highs and lows in every page. And you saved the best for last - Don on crutches! But under it all is the constant love Louis has for Don, and Don for Louis. Beautifully realistic, wonderfully enveloping.
I relate fully. The story will unfold, and possibly in an unanticipated way.
But now I wish you peaceful rest,
and tasty morsels of the best;
A sunrise joyful, warm and bright
to follow slivered moon at night.
Hugs.
Ethan, miserable and broken, at least goes to a good place and person to recover. Maybe he will listen and move on. Maybe Caleb will slowly fade, even as the new baby takes his place. And maybe that is what was meant to be. But what of Caleb?
There is an emptiness I feel I this. There is cavern in which your words echo with the sadness and waste of all this, and the grim outrage of betrayal. This poem is wet with the tears you shed, as should we all, for a man who knew too little love.
You have made my day! That you should read these aloud at all makes me very, very happy. That your mum enjoyed them - and maybe you did too - lifts my heart this evening.
It's always fun to find a scientific or mathematical principle that needs a poetic treatment. I believe Aditus put up the challenge of The Universal Gas Constant once....