THE PACT:

Remember when we made a pact, way back then, me & you?

No cake, no blooms, nor lace, just the love & the “Yes I do,”

Remember when asked, “Do you take this woman, this man?”

The lawful wedded, the oath sworn & the “Yes I will & I can,”

Words, “For poorer-for richer & the, “In sickness & in health,”

To us, it wasn’t about the contract, or even about the wealth.

 

Remember when we made a pact, long ago, just you & me?

The promise, an oath, a vow, to always love & to always be,

The children came, grew & went, but we stayed & still were,

Through the years we´d become “Us”, not merely him & her,

Money came & went, homes changed in & out of our hands,

And we travelled afar, just us, through so very, many lands.

 

We made a pact, a long time ago, to nobody else, only us,

Heart to heart, soul to soul, based only on our love & trust,

Passion came & then left, but deep tenderness daily grew,

Silver threads appeared, so did wrinkles & old time flew,

Through waxing & waning years of it all, we are still intact,

All because, you & I stayed in love & made that special pact.

 

THE BLACK SHAWL:

Wrapped in my black shawl, the day I came to earth,

Swaddled in such shame, by lone mother at my birth,

Flung upon the universe, with a stigma on my name,

Growing under black shawl, the one they couldn´t tame.

 

I danced under old full moons, with wolves & forest folk,

I drank wine of icy streams & wild herbs, I would smoke,

My lips were painted red, with sinful berries of old fall,

But, always around my being, I wore my old black shawl.

 

To balls I would go, dressed in pretty, soft & silken gown,

“The shameful little hussy,” I was called, around the town,

With tasseled black shawl, draped around my stoic shoulders,

Walking proud, beneath the weight of stigma’s stony boulders.

 

When laid in my coffin, at my end of time, upon this earth,

With forest lips kissed by berries & as naked as my birth,

Protected now & soft mantled, by Angel´s sighing breath,

The black shawl´s protection is shed in gentleness of death.

 

 

 

 

HUSH, WE´RE ONLY LITTLE:

Hush we´re only little, so please do not disturb,

We´re tiny little creatures, hiding within the herbs,

We live beneath the leaves & holes underground,

Humans never hear us, as we never make a sound.

 

Hush please be quiet, we are merely passing by,

Foraging for berries, beneath all creature´s sky,

You may peep at us & we´ll surely peep at you,

Hush we´re tiny & we´ll go with morning dew.

 

Hush & don´t tread on us, as we´re only very small,

Don´t disrespect us, just because you´re very tall,

Please do not hurt us, as we do no one any harm,

Just leave us in peace & our lives we´ll live in balm.

THE BALCONY:

That place, from where one dreams of love,

To where birds alight from blue skies above,

Of old iron railings, balustrades & curlicues,

And doves arrive with missive & lover´s news,

The balcony.

 

That place, where ivy creeps & spiders play,

From where, one sees night give way to day,

And seasons visit, summer, winter spring & fall,

From where one hears whispers of trees so tall,

The balcony.

 

That old place, where one sits to quietly dream,

In dawn & dusk, to pray, muse & sew soft seams,

Where one hears balladeer´s serenading songs,

To where one goes, to escape all life´s wrongs,

The balcony.

THE MATING GAME:

Golden neb to beak, obsidian feather to plume,

Fluffing rut, as shadowed tombstones greyly loom,

The mating game, danced to wolf´s wailing howls,

Serenaded by fanged jaws & bloody curdling jowls.

 

Beneath clawed talons, the silken worm slithers,

Above, leather-skinned bats, skit hither & thither,

Within the nest of crawl & old hawthorn dreams,

The raven sits warm, while plans new schemes.

 

Moon turned, egg cracked, watched by ebony eye,

Guardian of tombstones, insured for us who die,

Chick, slick-kissed, by blood-moon´s red spittle,

Born in sacred oath & to ancient Lore´s committal.