THE PHOENIX WRITES

Her energy,
A heady mix of cinnamon buns
straight out of the oven,
and Hot Chilli peppers eaten whole.

The comfort & sense of home,
Softness, love and care,
Nurturing peace and calm.

The passion of her soul
Vibrant, alive, heady and intoxicating
One look makes your cells explode,
One touch of a hand bone melting

Her energy like the wild rise of the Phoenix
Leaving you feeling exposed, vulnerable & alone.
Her body, warm, safe and soft
Is like a cool balm on the singed ashes of your psyche.

The result,
Wild confusion, mind numbing overwhelm,
And a soul awakened addiction
That keeps your running in fear,
And chasing in desire.

A chaotic roller coaster of sleepless nights,
With only one inevitable result
An ego death of full proportion
And surrender into the delightful abyss
Of the transformational power of the feminine.

Reality is drowned beneath the waves.
The bubbling crescendo
Sounding forth its mockery
At my resistance.

Anguished cries are muted
By the vast liquid’s gossamer grasp.
Each arching crest curves around my soul
Cocoon like it entraps me.

Explosive waves roar their obsession.
Each powerful white tipped crest
Rolls with the joy of loves persistent tattoo.

White water propels me heedless
Towards destiny’s ocean
Its power rushes through my veins.
Tossing me over the edge of reason
The Tsunami consumes me in its passion.

Heart pounding within my rapturous journey
The water falls away into distant oblivion.
Suddenly I am thrust free of its tenuous hold
Its vehemence crashing me against the scarred shore.
There the marks of our passing remain a constant reminder
Cherished scars to be carried on love’s momentous tide

Like a Tsunami come to claim the soul,
Love seeks my full surrender.

Our Souls Sing
In harmonious Accord
My one love
For whom my tears have poured.

My hearts home
After journey's traveled Far
My Dear One
​You are my shining star.

The poet’s quill scribes a vision of the debutante
as she rests amongst the bluebells
Scattered like jewels over the meadow.

The delicate voice of the robins
Echo through the valley,
Where the gentleman tells of his ardor
As they shelter amongst the weeping willows.

​Curls tumble from the confines of her hat,
Parasol tilting to hide girlish blushes,
Careless of her silk skirts
they are crushed, lying as broken rose petals.

She glows with the joy of an un-chaperoned picnic
Scent of cinnamon scrolls tempt her senses,
as her beau offers cider to moisten their suddenly dry throats.

Dapper in his impeccable finery,
Coat tails trailing, crisply starched shirt points lifting his chin,
Top hat tilted at a rakish angle.
Dark eye’s glinting with the thrill of his endeavors.

Sunshine silhouettes the glory of the lovers,
whom the poet has sewn together
as an artist creates a masterpiece.

Each syllable as a brushstroke on canvas.
A Monet made not of oil and brushes,
But ink and parchment.
Every word scribed by the care of the poet,
Transformed within the mind of the reader

Pirate!
Rapture haunts me
My sword lies un bloodied
Salacious gaze plunders my soul
Fires scorch in passions willing surrender
Oh scarred scoundrel of the high sea’s
I’ll have my cannon’s armed
When next you come
Pirate!

​So this is love....
Bone crushing
Soul enlightening love.

It's roots deep within
The bedrock of our existence
Unchanged by time, distance
or circumstances

It asks for nothing
It needs nothing to exist
No heartbreak
or loss can destroy it
No purging of old wounds
will tarnish it
But rather purifies.

That fickle demanding obsessive love
That controlled love
Love that demands loss of freedom or identity
That seeks to change or place conditions
That is not love

If it is, then to call this love is to insult it
The purity of this love knows no bounds
It's depths no limits
It's duration defies space and time
Life or death

This love is a rare and cherished thing
Not met before in this lifetime
In it's purity it lies safe
Asking or needing nothing for it's survival
It just is

Pure
Unchanging
Unconditional
Limitless
Passionate
Ever growing
Soul love

It’s not the instant spark,
Or swooning on the floor.
The drowning in those eyes
Or heady need for more.

It’s a comprehensive knowing,
Recognition from the past.
Some prior life experience,
When Eons ago this moment’s cast.

A sacred contract manifested,
By universal love.
The haste to fill our purpose,
Merged with something from above.

The oneness of creation
In common souls were found.
When connected with divine purpose,
Together, we abound.

And in that spark of knowing,
Our awareness is complete.
And our universal purpose,
Is fulfilled when two souls meet.

​