A Woman’s Love

A woman’s love is hard to find,

If you happen to be so fortunate to find it,

Treat it with care;

For, whatever else she may tell you in heated exchanges,

Or, to hurt you a little (like a child’s bite),

She loves you wholeheartedly without restraint,

An all consuming feat,

That leaves you speechless to behold;

So, please forgive her if she’s demonstrably possessive or reactionary at times,

For (as I believe she will confide in you in more sober times) she does not mean to be;

And in exchange for this, you must be her pillar,

To give her time!

Antidote to Winter

Do you remember the sun?

Walking on a sandy beach with warmth bearing down,

A glazed sea, glistening and reflecting light;

As the sea shimmers, with each wave gently rolling in and out;

Warm sands crunching between your toes,

As you and I walk along the shore hand-in-hand;

It’s a marmalade day dream;

And, the only thing bitter is:

It’s not here, and now!


Staring out from the battlement,

At the gathering force of foes in the valley below,

Where the horde has amassed,

And is now whipping itself up into a deafening storm of hurricane force,

Who will be the victor and vanquished when it finally abates?

Will my blade shatter and spoil in the ferocious onslaught to come?

Or, will I find myself drowning in a pool of my own blood and gore?

Uncertainty is anathema to even the best laid plans;

An unwelcome harbinger on the eve of any battle,

When grim resolve, is the only comfort that temptress salvation will allow.