In the centre of the room
under a roof made of straw.
The hearth – rages
in leaping song,
the flames loop and wind,
Wood and timber – consumed by the lips of hell,
An ageless tale of the gods,
Her face sheltered beneath gently fallen locks,
Lit by the fire; the colour of the flame,
Resting her cheek on the lap of love –
In the shadows of endless heart,
Tending to the threads of scarlet strings,
Twined for eternity to ancient ties,
With hands – warm and wandering,
Grasping at the throne,
Beside the fireplace darling Hestia dwells.


Sarah Sold Her Heart

sarahThe keys to the churchyard,
Rattle in the night,
Smoke and dust,
Eight words and a basket of flowers,
The clairvoyant spoke,
Long stems and artichokes,
A thistle wound,
A bone corset; busk and ivory clinched,
Taut and unbreathable,
A gasp of air, to kill,
A modern thrill,
A lost kingdom,
The king kidnapped of his own will,
A wick lantern,
Flamed the earth,
Skulls and skeletons,
The gallows darkness day,
A battle of the living,
Clashing with the dead,
Ewer and barrels,
Jewels and reign,
Sarah sold her heart to the king.

Tainted Hearts and Gothic Art

Broken bells, And tarnished sheets, Tainted hearts and gothic art, Twenty nine cigars and a bottle of ale, Death threats and Three mysterious queens, In rivalry, A crown on each, One of gold, a finest trophy, The other of iron … Continue reading