Two Dead Snakes

The squalling wind
presses against my cheek
like winters cold lips
in tiny buds tears spring
like velvet drops warmed by kiss,
caress my skin
Withstood the cast of weathered tides
An anchor to bind our feet
Drowning in a watery grave
Engraved your name across my mind
Decorated –
Enthralled in stars
Etched beyond the times
Two hundred and three years between the seasons past
Our soul reincarnates
Like two dead snakes
Sprawled on the lawn
Covered in skin of a leathery kind
Twisted and coiled
Worn
Old and forlorn
Shedding our skin
Exposed by our exterior
Our hearts told,
to begin again
our legend unfolds.

J.CALVERT 2016

 

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Hestia

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.

J.CALVERT 2016

Femme Fatale

With a carving knife, She sliced the coral, Slipped and cut the skin, Torque, the patterns swirled, Blood to jinx, Cutthroat, the callous heart, A hex and hymn, Wet lips entice, Femme fatale in the night, The sailor a puppet … Continue reading