My Heart is a Wild Place

 

My heart

is a wild place

But

I dare not tread

with loud feet

and ungloved hands

My heart 

Is a wild place

But

I move in subtle rhythm

With soft-coloured eyes

behind lashes

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Words are seldom

with a mute tongue

Surrounded by lips like cherries

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Touch is sharp

with finger tips

and nails

red

My heart 

Is a wild place

But

Pomegranate

and rose bush

twill in a wind

of frosty dew

My heart 

is a wild place

But

Once untameable

Now

sleeps peaceful

beside

loves

unspoken

tender tones

to tell a thousand words.

ALL WORDS COPYRIGHT

J.Calvert 2017

My Wild Heart


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Little Pieces 

My heart a million little pieces reflecting light, illuminated under the stars tonight. 

Words J.Calvert 2017 

Image: Pinterest edited

Tonight, Send Me A Warrior King

 

fashionphotographer5

121clicks.com

Tonight,
My enemy lies beside,
under the cover of night,
A little slice of heaven,
desire to roam my body, passion to clutch my throat,
lips wet with promise, lust never tasted so divine,
savoured like forbidden fruit, I bite with greed,
leave behind teeth marks
and a throbbing wound

Tonight,
send me a man,
a bold one,
a warrior king,
I need a fighter, someone who’s not afraid to sin,
a solider looking for a fight,
to combat under the sheets,
we will battle through to dawn,

Tonight,
is all we have,
tomorrow you can leave,
I’ll be finished with you by three,
we can be nemeses,
in the light of day,
but under the cloak of darkness,
you will be mine.

Tonight, you’ll stay.

@JCALVERT 2016, REVISED 2017

Sensual-Art-Photography-Couple-Intimate-photo-4

121clicks.com

A Braid Of Blue Horizon

Fragrant scents linger still
on light wind;
across the mill
Speaking to the trees
whispers softly spoke,
Between visions of gold;
lies Calla-Lilies
Bold
Trumpet shaped
paper-like bulbs
Painted in oil strokes,
Across Western Isles,
a braid of blue horizon
A hazy day unfolds
The hours between us;
filled with wordless minutes –
seconds slip
through our fingers
No matter how we cling
Voiceless
The silent sea
and the land moans sweetly
Words fail our sensibilities,
Disentangled by the strings that cast
and bind our hearts
Our senses curve above the sun,
The clouds a husky front –
The sound of silence
Speaks to us,
In the garden of our dreams.

@ J.CALVERT 2017

Photography courtesy of Pinterest

Handkerchief Threads

It is 

the whisper;    

a soft echo in my ear

The fragile touch of first loves kiss

A Harlequin Flower

sword-like leaves 

tapered 

spikes 

green

Endless 

papery floral stalk

It is 

a thousand tiny flowers 

A needle stick; 

blood drips 

and pools,

Queen Anne’s Lace 

covered in red, 

Young hearts 

tatted

Handkerchief threads. 


J.Calvert 2017
Photograph 1: https://www.pinterest.com/brendas097/then-i-snapped-picture-perfect-photography/

Photograph 2: https://www.etsy.com/listing/155694847/fine-art-photography-the-lace

Cats Paw 

Who where you in my dreams 

I was the symmetric shape 

Of stems  

And smoking pipes,

A ornamental lilac 

Self-titled 

singular beauty  

A touch-me-not

between fingertips 

And open ended sentences 

All vying to be heard. 
Who were you in my dreams?

You were the shadows 
paraded 

across the moorlands 

The winds breath, 

a cats paw gently taping on the 

waters edge 

A poisonous look-a-like creeping 

through the fence

All vying to be heard. 

In a dream 

We were. 

J.Calvert 2017 

Photograph one: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/258957047299286025/

Photograph two: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/258957047299286025/

Virtuously Blind

 

It’s the shade of blue that covers the sky
In December, when the sun is high
The light that crosses over your face
Shadows hold to no avail

Could it be you’re a mere fragment of my imagination?
Cask from the depths of my soul
Conjured from the wanting of my heart and
shaped by the very essence of my mind

Aware am I
That all this could be a dream
The fall of golden blonde across your shoulders
And silky skin
Pallid in the early hours
When dawn performs
Emerging as a holy flower

A blessing and a curse
Sin and virtue pooled
Tasted by a fool
Lips of red wine,
Spill
My bleeding heart
Created you from the vine
Virtuously blind.

J.CALVERT 2016

Photos courtesy of google images.

I know its been awhile and I’ve missed my writing space and writing friendships made. The last few months have proved challenging. I’m due to have my second baby girl in two weeks and my ability to write has disappeared? My mind is blank with the upcoming event taking centre stage! Please forgive my absence.

MERRY CHRISTMAS and  a HAPPY NEW YEARS everyone!

I hope you have a wonderful holiday with family and friends.

Here’s new and exciting adventures in 2017!

Jen xxx

 

 

Hayloft

http://nonsensesociety.com/2013/07/lina-kay/

lina Kay

https://in.pinterest.com/pin/40462096629922561/ The drawstrings of your dress
swept
down your spine,
reveal a tender back
and little hairs, fine.
A jumble of knotted vanilla ribbons,
reminds me of the hayloft,
where we rested our heads
the summer before last,
when the world owed us
and we found solace in the stars
Now,
the drawstrings of your dress
swept
down your spine
such a carnage of skin
straw milled, light
your hair all sticks and leaves
swallowed by the burden
the weight of birch stick
leaving welts behind.

J.CALVERT 2016