shatters black the last rosebud
that once in summer red as blood
in metaphor my heart assumed
now to a winter’s night consumed
though now dark ghost, a memory
its scarlet passions call to me
and oh such reveries they bring
of that first bloom upon the spring
in the blind madness
of passion’s insanity
I see only you
unquiet is my sleep
for upon pillows down
woke from the dreams
I long to keep
thoughts of her abound
in passions blood I rise
by desire devoured
the need to dance
within her eyes
fills each darkened hour
I look upon her
draped only in red sunset
her naked skin a promise
I long to keep
desire drips
from parted lips
and speak in wordless phrase
full blooded sighs
which cannot lie
tell truths the flesh relays
passions bound
to make no sound
save those that drive them fore
its recompense
concupiscence
that heartbeats will implore
vexed beyond a madness
by passion’s growing glow
held in awe of the first breath
that leaves all resistance low
thoughts upon her parted lips
whisper to a kiss imagined
dreams caress like fingertips
felt upon me with abandon.
how wanton my desire for thee
what soul’s fire inspires me
to my pursuit of passion’s true
my dreams engage to painting you
in deep red shadows unrestrained
the body from the mind enflamed
that these debauched images rent
prepare my flesh for your consent
we burn in our dreams
and find this passion’s meaning
in morning’s ashes
my passions
ignite in
colours
mostly blue
they burn
with you in mind
frozen flames
perhaps you think
but its hues
are immeasurable
like the light
from the coldest
oldest farthest
star
as yet undiscovered
so still un-named
suffered yet sublime
in his passion
scarlet robes
peeled plaster
marks the years
in dried blood
of sacrificial time
and even its relentless
scimitar cannot scar
the lamb’s countenance
of calm divinity
the blighters rock 