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THE BLUE ROSE

Somewhere a rose of cobalt blue
Blooms by a woodland stream,
Kissed by the breezes passing through,
Lost in a lover's dream.

Far from the clutch of pick-purse time
Brief as a rainbow's end,
Teasing my soul with thoughts sublime
Always around the bend.

Love called to me one Summer day
Warm as a rose in bloom,
Love spoke my name, then turned away
Fleeting as rose perfume.

Somewhere a rose's petals fell
Blue as a Summer sky,
Life came along to break the spell
Letting love's flower die.

Somewhere a lover seeks a rose
Blue as a Winter star,
Gone faraway where no one knows,
Gone where the old years are

Rolled like the heavens in a scroll
Beyond the brink of night,
Hidden within a broken soul
Always just out of sight.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

On Sunday, September 3, 2023 at 4:23:08 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> THE BLUE ROSE
>
> Somewhere a rose of cobalt blue
> Blooms by a woodland stream,
> Kissed by the breezes passing through,
> Lost in a lover's dream.
>
> Far from the clutch of pick-purse time
> Brief as a rainbow's end,
> Teasing my soul with thoughts sublime
> Always around the bend.
>
> Love called to me one Summer day
> Warm as a rose in bloom,
> Love spoke my name, then turned away
> Fleeting as rose perfume.
>
> Somewhere a rose's petals fell
> Blue as a Summer sky,
> Life came along to break the spell
> Letting love's flower die.
>
> Somewhere a lover seeks a rose
> Blue as a Winter star,
> Gone faraway where no one knows,
> Gone where the old years are
>
> Rolled like the heavens in a scroll
> Beyond the brink of night,
> Hidden within a broken soul
> Always just out of sight.
>
> -- Michael Pendragon
>
> *****
>

On Sunday, September 3, 2023 at 4:07:25 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Sunday, September 3, 2023 at 4:23:08 AM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > THE BLUE ROSE
> >
> > Somewhere a rose of cobalt blue
> > Blooms by a woodland stream,
> > Kissed by the breezes passing through,
> > Lost in a lover's dream.
> >
> > Far from the clutch of pick-purse time
> > Brief as a rainbow's end,
> > Teasing my soul with thoughts sublime
> > Always around the bend.
> >
> > Love called to me one Summer day
> > Warm as a rose in bloom,
> > Love spoke my name, then turned away
> > Fleeting as rose perfume.
> >
> > Somewhere a rose's petals fell
> > Blue as a Summer sky,
> > Life came along to break the spell
> > Letting love's flower die.
> >
> > Somewhere a lover seeks a rose
> > Blue as a Winter star,
> > Gone faraway where no one knows,
> > Gone where the old years are
> >
> > Rolled like the heavens in a scroll
> > Beyond the brink of night,
> > Hidden within a broken soul
> > Always just out of sight.
> >
> > -- Michael Pendragon
> >
> > *****
> >
****

WITCHESꞌ MOON

Tonight the harvest moon burns red
And bathes the world in pumpkin spice,
She calls the Old Ones from their bed
With whispered words that run like mice
Across the sleeping land.

She hums tunes snatched from black cat cries
From gingersnaps and fenny snakes,
She sweeps the cobwebs from the skies
And smiles as the world awakes
To dream at her command.

Tonight in some forgotten glen
Her worshippers will dance in rings,
And hidden from the gaze of men
Engage in foul, ungodly things
As dragons eat the stars.

There in the moonlight's pumpkin glow
They'll call upon the Ancient names,
Then round about the bonfire go
Toss wicker scarecrows on the flames
To burn away Earth's scars.

Tonight the blood-red witches' moon
Looks down to cast her timeless spell,
Where dreams are tossed like scattered runes
Before the gates of Hell.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

SUMMER PASSING

If I could only catch the fleeting hours
Turn back the callous step of Old Man Time,
Preserve the blossoms of the Summer flowers
That dance their parti-colored pantomime
Down hill and meadow like a gypsy band.

If I could only stay the laughing brook
That splashes joy across a woodland grove,
Press scents of fresh cut grass within a book
Lock memories in a secret treasure trove
With Summer kisses, seashells, grains of sand

And scattered moments when your windswept smile
Came home like sparrows resting on my brow.
If I could hold the Summer just a while,
Entwine it in an endless here and now
Like meadowflowers in a young girl's hair.

But Dawn sleeps later with each passing day
And August's roses wither on the vine,
The old man in the looking glass turns gray
As Autumn whisks away what once was mine
When crocus sang that Spring was in the air.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

DEATH'S-HEAD EPITAPH

Your vanity has poisoned the waters
of the wishing wells you seek to plunder
Despite the cost of selfish blunders
no matter the battles lost, you wonder
why ego will be your hill to fall on
its sword, your shame is skewered upon
Your intentions held to be so swell
I will see them all in Hell
~~Aah Wurthing

On Sunday, September 10, 2023 at 2:03:43 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> DEATH'S-HEAD EPITAPH
>
> Your vanity has poisoned the waters
> of the wishing wells you seek to plunder
> Despite the cost of selfish blunders
> no matter the battles lost, you wonder
> why ego will be your hill to fall on
> its sword, your shame is skewered upon
> Your intentions held to be so swell
> I will see them all in Hell
> ~~Aah Wurthing
>

My Life as a Butterfly
by NancyGene

I fly up, linger, flit, and flirt,
I cannot waste my wistful time.

I must mate soon and often now;
I have to lay my hundred eggs.

Come lie with me, my gentle Sir,
I smell of flowers, bathe in light.

I have two weeks of love to give--
You do not have to stay for long.

EMPTINESS

There is an emptiness behind my eyes,
A mindless void where happiness and pain
Have no more substance than the cloudless skies
Where neither Winter tears nor Summer rain
Would dare to wash away the somber grey
That paints my world a barren, lifeless tone.

There is a constant chill within my heart,
A hollowness no love can hope to fill
Though Heaven sent or cast by blackest art
It beats against my breast against my will
To waken thoughts I'd thought to lock away
With murdered dreams and youthful passions flown

To somewhere far beyond the stillborn sky --
Some place where broken dreamers go to die.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

Life Spans
by NancyGene

If we’re fortunate, we grow old.
We may die young,
Good or bad,
Or sell our souls
To the lowest bidder.
To die young is to end dreams.
To die old is to know disappointment.
To live forever is both.

Us
by NancyGene

Fully, only, all encompassing
Sears, devours, two lives tumbling
Apart, never, treasonous
You, me, no one else, us.

Scatter families, forge our own
Us, them, no overtone
Whole, together, consummate passion
Grand in love, nothing dare happen.

A glance, distance, a call, a sighting
Cruel answers, from you, uniting
More, words, beloved, bargains
Parting, lies, detachment hardens.

Over, ended, done, don’t care
A scene, a song, no, still there.
Deny, evade, accept, agree
You’re gone from us; us now is me.

A Time to be Grateful
by NancyGene

Would I be grateful to be born Christian
in a Nazi overrun country?
Did I win the wheel of fortune spin
so no armband need be worn by me?

Everyone shows gratitude after the fact
but not while evil is extant.
Who fights back at the first contact
and doesn’t let tyrants ferment?

It’s easy to be grateful when others die
while doing the fighting for us
Shouldn’t we join in the battle cry
Long before we pardon the treasonous?

FULFILLMENT*
by NancyGene

I hold a satisfaction in my being,
A completion in my mind,
As if I were only now seeing
The greatest of good in mankind
And the brightest of hues
Which overlay my world of happiness.

I am warm with the love that wraps my heart,
Forever from you, forever for you,
And there is not a single part
Of me that does not want to shout to
The love-starved world the news
Of us and that God has blessed

Us with more than dreams could bring--
Not just sky or clouds, but Life’s everything.

*A companion poem to Michael Pendragon’s poem “EMPTINESS.”

Parade

My heart raced,
more marching band
than muscle,
as a young boy
saluted his father's
procession
with the precision
of an honor guard's
rehearsed remembrance.

Another shattered
soul struck down
by madness -- the politician,
the preacher in the
cross hairs of twisted civility.

I was young then,
old now, as small children
become faceless and cries
of why still ring out
with no answer but leaving me
to believe a higher power
has closed its eyes
on a failed experiment.

~~Reverie

***Posted with author's permission. Ash posts for Ecthrois Grimm, Last Dance and now Reverie on AAPC, in AYoS only, since they don't wish to come here under the current conditions, but want their work posted to AYoS.***

On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 8:12:58 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> Parade
>
> My heart raced,
> more marching band
> than muscle,
> as a young boy
> saluted his father's
> procession
> with the precision
> of an honor guard's
> rehearsed remembrance.
>
> Another shattered
> soul struck down
> by madness -- the politician,
> the preacher in the
> cross hairs of twisted civility.
>
> I was young then,
> old now, as small children
> become faceless and cries
> of why still ring out
> with no answer but leaving me
> to believe a higher power
> has closed its eyes
> on a failed experiment.
>
> ~~Reverie
>
> ***Posted with author's permission. Ash posts for Ecthrois Grimm, Last Dance and now Reverie on AAPC, in AYoS only, since they don't wish to come here under the current conditions, but want their work posted to AYoS.***
>

On Wednesday, September 20, 2023 at 2:58:17 PM UTC-4, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Sunday, September 17, 2023 at 8:12:58 PM UTC-4, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> > Parade
> >
> > My heart raced,
> > more marching band
> > than muscle,
> > as a young boy
> > saluted his father's
> > procession
> > with the precision
> > of an honor guard's
> > rehearsed remembrance.
> >
> > Another shattered
> > soul struck down
> > by madness -- the politician,
> > the preacher in the
> > cross hairs of twisted civility.
> >
> > I was young then,
> > old now, as small children
> > become faceless and cries
> > of why still ring out
> > with no answer but leaving me
> > to believe a higher power
> > has closed its eyes
> > on a failed experiment.
> >
> > ~~Reverie
> >
> > ***Posted with author's permission. Ash posts for Ecthrois Grimm, Last Dance and now Reverie on AAPC, in AYoS only, since they don't wish to come here under the current conditions, but want their work posted to AYoS.***
> >
>

AZRAEL

Come to my bed on wings of midnight sky
When candleflames burn low like dying stars,
And sixty years extinguish in a sigh.
Cradle my head and brush away the scars
Of sixty Summers, Winters, Autumns, Springs
So that my wicked soul might come to rest.

Grant me a kiss whose dark enchantment brings
A peace plucked from the Isles of the Blest,
As Aidenn's fruit returns men's thoughts to clay.
Gather my bones, like children, to your breast
And in a heartbeat, carry me away
Where thoughts lie stillborn, feelings unexpressed --

Adrift on ebon waves that have no shore;
Swept up in dreamless sleep forever more.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

Battle

Yes, the night bites
at thoughts of permanent
goodbyes -- the final scene
rehearsed, though I've sprained
no limb -- follicles never rejecting
a single hair, the brow, smooth
as parchment, yet it stalks
vowing to win the battle
of stolen breath and last syllables.

The morning sun offers
a pardon though caution is advised --
one false move and the night
will become forever.

~~Reverie
**posted for and with the author's permission

The Happiness Thief
by NancyGene

He comes sneaking in through unlocked tears
And asks you where your lover is.
He then riles your calm and baits your fears
Of all the Hells you say are bliss.

You can never have a sense of peace;
He whispers, “What is wrong with you?”
You still listen and there’s no release
From scornful laughs and silent truths.

He will steal your life and rip your soul,
And you give up, all severed veins.
You will know your mind’s lost all control
To him when you seek love again.

On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 1:18:03 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> The Happiness Thief
> by NancyGene
>
> He comes sneaking in through unlocked tears
> And asks you where your lover is.
> He then riles your calm and baits your fears
> Of all the Hells you say are bliss.
>
> You can never have a sense of peace;
> He whispers, “What is wrong with you?”
> You still listen and there’s no release
> From scornful laughs and silent truths.
>
> He will steal your life and rip your soul,
> And you give up, all severed veins.
> You will know your mind’s lost all control
> To him when you seek love again.

I do believe that I know this character...

On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 9:17:29 PM UTC, Ash Wurthing wrote:
> On Friday, September 22, 2023 at 1:18:03 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > The Happiness Thief
> > by NancyGene
> >
> > He comes sneaking in through unlocked tears
> > And asks you where your lover is.
> > He then riles your calm and baits your fears
> > Of all the Hells you say are bliss.
> >
> > You can never have a sense of peace;
> > He whispers, “What is wrong with you?”
> > You still listen and there’s no release
> > From scornful laughs and silent truths.
> >
> > He will steal your life and rip your soul,
> > And you give up, all severed veins.
> > You will know your mind’s lost all control
> > To him when you seek love again.

> I do believe that I know this character...

He goes door-to-door.

PUMPKIN SPICE

The scent of Autumn lingers in the air
With hints of ginger, cinnamon, and clove;
At 42nd Street and Herald Square,
On 8th Street, Bleecker, Christopher, and Grove --
Each crowded sidewalk, every crosswalk where
New Yorkers sip their pumpkin latte dreams.

The years run back to homemade pumpkin pie
That warms my spirit as the days grow cold;
And somewhere in some long-forgotten sky
I see your face in tones of burnished gold --
But men grow old, and memories fade and die
And life's not half so wondrous as it seems

When love was young and knew no greater bliss
Than tasting pumpkin spices in your kiss.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

STITCHES IN TIME

She sews the stitches in the cloth of days
With cobwebs stolen from Arachne's loom,
Spins moments into threadbound photoplays
Binds years to years as cradles to the tomb
Then with a snip, her tapestry is done.

Yet every cloth is to another sewn
And each, in turn, is bound to many more,
A shadow show wove out of flesh and bone
With aeons laced to those that came before
By sinewed sutures older than the sun.

Each fabric has its fable to unfold,
A linen latticework of hope and fear --
And when her snip proclaims the tale is told
Her timeworn figures fade and disappear.

-- Michael Pendragon

*****

Vow

I tried
to grab at the mist –
it being the only thing left
of yesterday's 'I do'.

My faith remains
at the alters
of bitter whiskey –
a union meant to last
'till death
do us part'.

~Reverie
**posted for and with the author's permission