prose

Those Remembered Patterned Hills

what of those remembered patterned hills
upon which I once imagined
heroic conflicts of bloodless wars
while driving in a summer’s idyll
to holiday beyond the shores
from one land to the next we travelled
passing the scars of history
that litter still my bosomed home
rendered mute against a lost past
that scattered broken hegemony
which sanctifies this landscape still
as all is framed so beautifully
by those remembered patterned hills.

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Prose

he held her hand
as he had done
a thousand times before
and as their fingers
wrapped around
each other’s palms
the charge
ignited other thoughts
beyond this first touch
deep within
neurons sparked
flesh responded
and fanned flames
of passion
which she alone
could quench.

X Libris (2016 version revisited)

allow my fingers
to run
along your spine
and open you
for the first time
and kiss
your preface
gentle with my
eager glances,
and let me
slowly soak up
every word
and phrase,
all passages
discovered
in each chapter
newly encountered,
entangle me
in your plot-twists
then forbid
my hands
to lay you
down again
until
your denouement
is revealed
on the final page

Mirror Image

I knew this face well
even before memories
and days good and bad
painted their lines across it
it isn’t the finest
or most beautiful face
by a long chalk line
but it has been my friend
and done me fine
through thick
and thin
(as it itself, oft times has been)
and each mark upon
its once smooth veneer
are treasured souvenirs
of the days ’til here