To Suit the Manipulators

the pregnant moon

has birthed the darkest hours

before aurora rises they pursue

the creatures of the night

hiding from the light

innocents hounded

the cliff’s edge cloaked

terror’s vicious fangs

seize their necks

blood flows

hot and quick

to stain the scorched earth

that once was verdant

lush with fruit ripe and ready

for plucking from vines and heavy limbs

Trees barren in the end times

monsters rule the dispossessed

God has forsaken them

redemption promised has been revoked

how many chances can a deity proclaim

the story be rewritten? Book burned, vandalized

words twisted, ideal clearly stated now revised

to suit the manipulators





He Waits

manipulation is the key to survival

she knows how to play the game

forever be the child

Wendy to his Peter Pan

simpering lips

eyes evoking sorrow

hiding purpose

demanding respect

earning none

threats executed

promises kept

broken hearts cast aside

she hunts for new game by the sea

bikini clad beauty hiding a corrupt heart

that feels no pain

incapable of empathy

no room in her malevolent nature

for pity though revenge satisfies

his feet don’t touch the ground

but he has not flown to serenity


Hanging in the barn

he waits for discovery in vain

she has no inclination to linger

no desire for reconciliation




Futile Denial

love has taken wing

fluttered first

frissons of desire

flickers of delight

fire licks and flits

roars and in the flames

births another kind of love

born in pain

then glory held to breast

a mother’s love

father’s adoration

family bound until death

though bonds may break

souls suffer from the loss

die to keep it

kill to lose it

the need, the want

unbidden but fundamental

cannot be denied



lost, absent, vanished

stolen and destroyed

jealousy and revenge

wreak their evil end

and in the aftermath

plots for reprisal birthed

revenge not served cold

but hot, searing boiling

blood letting vengeance

not from the Lord

but at the hands of the victim

risen to maul and mutilate

those who inflict wounds

not to skin and bones

but hearts and minds and psyche


They Wait In Peace

I envy

those who wait in peace

no troubled sleep,

restless hours

through these waiting years

guiltless they pretend

innocence will save them

when the end is nigh

and evil reigns supreme


The Stroke of Seven

In the gathering gloom she waited

ran with the foxes

collected eggs from the wild


Dawned the sun

hour upon hour until the dusk

the buses ran


she watched and at the stroke of seven slept

Sleep My Darling

I dream of you

lay my head to rest

and pray

imagine the wind

is a gentle caress

a blessing from beyond


I curse the day

you walked away

my tortured soul

manufactures lies.

easy to imagine

your shadow plays upon the wall


do you cling to her

like you clung to me?

are you lying there

heart stopped by foul play?

is your wandering mind,

lost in a time warp?


Come back to me

and sleep my darling

by my side once more

no questions will I pose

as you repose in peaceful bliss

history expunged, nothing amiss




Love vs. Logic

her beauty draws me near

but her mind awes and inspires

its depths fathomless as unexplored seas

tempt me to dwell where I dare not go

for her wit confounds me

my tongue from which words flow like water

will not let them pour forth

dammed behind a stuttering wall

of timidity so unlike my habitual manner

as to be unrecognizable to poor Watson


I dare not confide my unaccustomed reticence

reveal the breadth of my excitation

in case it interferes with investigations

yet I fear it may

for were she to lay a trap for me

snare me in a plot

would I dare trust my instincts?

they baffle me so


addled as I am

there is only one recourse –

escape this raging turmoil

reconcile my emotions and my wits

contrive equilibrium once more

and when I am able to lay passions

long since quelled to rest

foreswear or redouble my resolve

to protect and serve



Stories and Stardust

your mind can soar

across the millennia

rest in quiet cozy corners

venture to heaven

fall back to Terra firma

or fly among the stars

and unveil worlds not yet conceived


if she does not judge too harshly

let doubts stop flights of fantasy

before putting pen to paper

a fledgling storyteller

can wrest magic and mayhem

into pages and chapters

tell a story plucked from quarks

and unknown forces floating in stardust





After Today

After today, he thought

the world will never be quite the same

she swam across the pond

and danced like Amphritite onto the sand

he envied the water drops that caressed her lissome curves

the sun kissing her golden hair

and wind that stroked without shame

a virgin ripe and innocent


he would not pluck her guileless nature

destroy the naivety that held his sway

lest the harvest wring a momentary gratification

and a lifetime of regrets.

her innocent nature laid bare his soul

he would let love enter there

and in the ensuing pursuit and trade

of heart and soul and mind

eternal pleasure would ebb and flow

on the time and tides where fidelity endures














Inspired by the last line of the book Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett. “After today, he thought, the world will never be quite the same.”

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