I want to give a personal thank you to Mr. Alan Boles who has encouraged poetry and has provided poets with many opportunities on his FB sites (one) A Poet’s Haven. I also want to thank Author Susan Joyner-Stumpf for including two of my poems in her Christmas Anthology Book Vol 1 2015. Thank you, Susan for this wonderful opportunity.

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The Images are from stock images from A Poet’s Haven and other sites, some are mine works of art.  And, at this time would like to thank all who have contributed to those of us who love to write. Many, many thanks over an over again. You inspire us more than you’ll ever know. We work hand and hand to create our masterpieces.

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“For what is a shoe without a sock and what is a sock without a foot… A bare foot is vulnerable to many things. Art and poetry cover the naked flesh and protect the virgin skin.” Bojenn

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The fog of dull moist clouds cloistered Earths hills
rolling slowly quietly assured with December’s presence
uncovering the steal bleakness of chills
the grey fox sought the superlative time stalking
hunting, one catch, the hare eating thorns, is captured
~
All rests except the fox, and the hawk that swoops prey
and beautiful it seems to carolers that dream
pictured on Christmas Cards sleighing coupled in hay
but the hunted sigh as the singers pass by
ignoring the innocent life in the forest by night
really wintry rest is not what it seems
~
The white witch cursed the greens for 3 months
laughing, she pointed t’wards the fox and the hare
the hawk she invited on her evening animal hunts
while the fox, hiding and embarrassingly shares
“dear rabbit if only there was another way to convey
my condolences and my fondness, for you, today”
~
The fawn born in grey thicket that night
a hunter was on track for a meal, of the carnivores type
deep in silence, bitter coldness that eve, less bright
their faces showed meanness, sickeningly alarming
hungry for killing the innocent and feeling no lament
the damp floors lined with twigs and leaves sent
~
warning there are trespassers entered our forest
and without invitation, the hawk soared forewarning
the dove in turn echoes cooing that entered the space
of the ears of the fox alarming, He tells the furry rabbit who
crosses into the thicket nosing the doe and the fawn in warmed coddling
“stay within the thicket this eve, safe from guns,” the hare knew
~
the hunter’s love winter’s and the innocent blood
And the white witch carries on until spring
stay here little doe while your mother brings the cud
the sleet drizzling rains seem never to bring
peace within the forest it seems
and life circles around the fox and the hare,
the buzzards hunting the carcass from away up there.

~

But, in three months the white witch sleeps, for seven
greens foliage pops abundantly mostly everywhere, in heaven
lives encircled by violent game continues to hunt prey
And all the animals ask the Great Spirit to end those days
when all God’s creatures are safe and won’t have to pray
Until that time, all creatures carry on, waiting that one day the living
may sleep, in peace, forevermore

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The Fire Drake surveyed for any breath of life remaining

The humans decidedly in unification ended all existence

Hovering over Elysium once occupied by eternal Spring

The Drake came to rest on wet wood washed to shore

It considered all things and then it took to flight

Once there was a place called Heaven and now it’s forever lost

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The horse and the owl whimsically banter

Cold and brilliant, crisp and fine thin air

Like two children enjoying the woods as they go

She waits dressed in her dark long dismal robe

Hiding and lurking watching them behind a tree

The fun and freedom she MUST control

Concentrating on taming them using her telep-probe

The owl tells the stallion of her curse

The two bind together in unison

Committed to freedom they press the  witch

And, in love, the two reverse the intended perverse

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Holding gently the found ware from the basin

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The witch adorning her black garbs so Goth

Holding the chicken claw cup of blood she

Dared her to drink. The young maid entered

Cautiously she was descrying the next move

She untrusted the black witch with the claw cup

They matched off and knew only one would win

The other fades into just a poet or story teller.

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Shooting the moose, a distasteful damper

He aimed at the three

Who jammed his gun at his knee

And bound him around the targets truck, Betty

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They hollered, as they ran by, and there I layed the Camellia

Red as a rose the pedals began to fall

She loved the flower, as it blooms, were ever so small

Where have you gone, fairest love any has known?

Behind us remains a monument

Oh purest have you entered judgment?

Holding tightly is your bill of rights, my hands love

I will see you through disgrace, even from above

I will not let go of your virginal precept and promise

Forever, pledged to your chastity and modalis

Here in the rain, I sit, reading notes unfinished

Here I will watch and I will pray until my love has refurbished

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Swinging freely from a heavenly chair

Playing the keys while suspended in air

What a muse for a gal like me

Can think where I’d rather be

Must laugh, if you’re a too, daydreamer

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Lurking the mind to travel through time

Memory lane to my mother’s to stay

Awhile amongst her dreams sublime

The gold, reds, browns and stone

Whispered distant tales of we children

Took me there in visions of home

My mother cooking for a zillion

Always people around there

Politics, food and football

The odors of onions, peppers and pairs

And daddy with daughters gathered in fall

And this path in Autumn takes me home

Just kicking leaves and singing hymns

Remembering my mama as I rome

And thinking of daddy is another whims

This path is golden

Magical and not so distant

Once traveling it’s colors so olden

And commitment to journey that path be persistent

When at the end shall greet them if not resistance

On the path in Autumn thought nonexistent

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Answers asked of her love so

Fair and where he hid his

Love far from her because

He feared the strength she

Possessed and found another

Less bold and demure so he

Thought leaving true love

Alone to scry for his

Affections gone wrong…

He will return

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On a stairway not actually going to heaven

There I sat undecided and sullen

Turning back towards home seems boring and lame

However, realizing it’s the only way and less shame

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Chasing wild stallions

Taming the beast

Is her goal, so it seems

In her dreams

Running after him

He who can’t be tamed

She who can’t win

Chasing wild stallions

Taming that stead

A enormous goal that is bittersweet

Leave now while your eyes are black

Tomorrow your heart suffers a panic attack

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That nest in her hair

Skin so pale and silver tresses

Turtle necked tight black dresses

Always adorn you

And though misunderstood, others view

Yet, looks are deceiving because your heart is true

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Here Samantha contemplates

Hiding eyes behind the red rim

Thinking others do not see

Her lips plumped as sin

Tonight is my moment

I shall not waste

Tomorrow is church

There I’ll go in guilt and haste

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Oh maiden of winter so fair are your breasts

The Cardinal comes to rest and awaken you

Before the freeze comes and occupies the crests

Into the foxes den where it is warm

Come fairy princess and we birds shall nest

In your love and beauty

Within a winter cold and dark

Do come into hibernation as it’s our duty

To keep from harm and warn you our darling lark

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A storm is brewing in 1622

Powhatan envisioned

What innocent colonists would do

The Virginia clouds rolled end

Just before the indian chief died

Now only Powhatan’s memory

In an indian bride

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Trapped in a whimsical place so grey

Fantasies and stories plague her mind all day

Beating on her walls and knocking on her door

Dressed in white she thinks forevermore

Sinking in her gown, her face of despair

And in walks the nurse, who cares

Bringing drugs that makes one stare

Off in a distant place

Prays for that normal day

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Waiter, please, pour them a cup of the secret brew

I dream of romance and interludes with handsome foe

Aromas musty, and florals so sweet

Those fragrances you’ll read as if it were meat

Have a said enough?

Did I fancy your ear?

Because time for dreaming and writing beckons me, near

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Slapped in my face again and again

The martyrs blood didn’t just begin

I loved you and you, way too much

And lost my life while mending, all of your stuff

When visiting the family on holidays, seemed so dim

Everyone did it because we were all blood and kin

And fun was somewhere other than there

But we came together anyway, and had another beer

The superficial laughter, we feigned, so well

We “faked it until we made it” and we got over that hill

Of once a year family Christmas greetings

Where the canines brought the joy and less family heatings

Politics and football, food and wine

A day of utter tolerance and strangely kind

One more year behind us

One more year older and realization, that WE MUST!

Continue with traditional mayhem and tolerance

That once seemed so very terribly fraudulent

However, looking past now realize, that everyone belonged.

The magic was there, in those times, and with us all together, in communion, in all that time along

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So i was.

Now, I say, “Weather, I dare you!

Just try to make my day!”

Like Giddy, I challenge my fears.

I tied myself to the umbrella

The lightening may come near

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     Thez’ bien mumblen and turchin

Gathied in onz anoder jibbering

     Grandishes and Larens

Abot’zee nudderins of Da Barons

     belliishen hatch for saking

Lozing habellishing bulleshitings

     Zee tongulashings regartrash

Ghtened in zee wesewer

     Fairest what’d zit longbeliefeth

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Political whines

Screaming opinions

Demanding self

Entitled

The hare hole opens

Exposing plans

Hidden agendas

Ready friends?

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A rumbling resounded from a distant horizon still high

And folks didn’t wonder or look upward at the magnificant sky

And, alone stood a winter tree, in the freezing lake starving for companions while dying

Under the umbrella of heaven it watched, as it knew, there are no champions on the horizon

Frightfully from the distance, came rolling in the dense ghostly fog

The Winter Tree witnesses the start of ~ It won’t utter what it seers..

It sees the future. It knows the last storm is coming, just behind the fog.

It knows the  prophecies are unveiling just as written.

Shaking in the icy cold water, standing alone, it will be brave, it realizes it’s destiny.

And, the stars will come again.

There will be other trees.

Another prophet shall emerge.

And life rolls as directed

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 My fairy princess is a double gemini
Should I expect anymore

Anticipate, death

Cold, gray skies cover me, write
Introspection’s drawBetrayed again by
Those who say they love me too
Why do I stay nearSo, I feel sorrow
My eyes cried, but I, will live
My life will resumeTruthfully, time stopped
Slow-motions of long times pasts
It’s relative nowLife has it’s lessons
Karmic, reaping and sowing
This too, I have learned

In addition: Day 2

Laughing together, eating cotton candy
We rode The Ferris Wheel dangling our feet
Over the side, all the while screaming
Laughing once in awhile

Life has ups and downs, but mostly valleys
Sometimes desperately crying for calm water
Please, we’d pray. Please, just for a day.
So, we learned to love Ferris Wheels and such

Many years we lived together with adrenalin
And I tried to wipe the chocolate off your nose
You cried, and I did too, and he did, as well.
You left in Spring for green pastures

No troubles while grazing amongst the clover
With the rabbits you nibbled and ate Tarots
And, did other things called art to your body
But, you always did your best to laugh

You chose to leave us behind and escape
We missed you, but understood “the whys”
Visiting here and there, you came
In and out like a whirl wind of turbulent breaths

This was your style. Lighting on home and friends
A little here or there, wherever your whim landed
Until sadness overtook you and then you always left
Again and again, even after bloody devastation

One September you stole away after midnight
You thought you were clever and free
Closing my eyes for a year and a half
Bowing in prayer, had to set you free

Did you know it was one year and two months
One week before Christmas that you returned to me
Brought home by a wayward girl
She called in the middle of the night a hundred miles away

I went anyway, and lost my job
I didn’t care.
Holding you in my arms
We both cried again, but you, did not cry for me.

I write this because, it’s happening again
The cycle is here and you’ve chosen other’s to light on
Time and history repeats itself
But, I’m weary now and it’s Christmas again.

 

My Mandala for today

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The bench in spring held our laughter

The bench in summer scorched with our embrace

In fall we agreed to say good bye

The freezing winter alone I often cried

Once my life was filled with your love

Seasons came and passed by and by

And time marched on

Like a vague memory that you’re here

And then your gone

And time did not care

nor did it elevate any suffering

It just stepped forward and never back

And time marches on

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Time

This bench in spring holds our laughter

This bench in summer scorches with our embraces

Though in fall we agreed to say good bye

That frozen winter alone, I often cried

Once, I was filled with your love

However, seasons come and pass by and by

And time does march on

This bench is a vague memory of that time

A ghost. You were there.

And now, your gone

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Soot on her nose and on her clothes

A princess under the gloom

Sweeping by day and sleeping with a broom

Occupied her, several years and a day

Then one eve after chores completed

Cindy’s thoughts were always fleeting

Except on Sunday when snow fell sleeting

She lingered looking in a mirror scrying

Amazing stood an image of her abiding

Dressed in clothing so fair

With hair done up with care

Her face trimmed with shimmering flair

Her broom became a handsome princess’ groom

And the hearth beheld foods that filled the room

And she danced until the moon’s lights diminished

And Karma knew Cindy was quite unfinished

And the shoes belonged to the princess in soot

And not another minute was spent feeling unloved and unkept

Because Cindy saw the crown Karma promised

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Caught in glance

And a glance was caught

Though in innocence

She saw

Secrets of long ago

It does seem

I know this place, before

She dreamed

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Madonna’s flame and smoke trails her now

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The Golden Princess of The Autumn smiles

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The Queen of Hearts

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In the forest of enchantments and colorful girls

The Earth and all of it’s energies

Watched dancing in elements and synchronicities

In bare feet when the Earth cools

When The Moon and the wolf rules

In silence during the first virgin lights

In November at the stroke of midnight

The leaves and spirits twirl

To the dance that ends the world

And ushers in rest for the end of the year

Which, often takes the lives of a deer

The hunter knows where to aim

Ending the year , what a shame

The last hoorah is for now

We join together reverencing our bow

Fairy dances of The Fall

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And so, I wrap up 2015 with my poems for 1/4 of the year. The last quarter obviously. Thank you for making it through to the end, those of you who survived. I hope I didn’t put you to sleep. I don’t hear any snoring, but if your in REM sleep I hope the poems bring you dreams of enchantment, enlightenment and love.

One more poem to go… I think. So, May you have a Happy New Year 2016. Thank you for visiting.

The phantom who hides within my shadows
Speaking on occasion as if we’re brothers
In whispers the ghosts utters futures
Leaving truths and unanswered mysteries
Hence the messages given haunts
Forever traveling in times
Within the masks
Of my livesIn clouds vague, I transend
Through vapors and sparkling dew
Under layers of ancient art
Reading to understand the clues
Turning through the doors in which I knew
And the answers remained within the stones
Foreverthere
In another season
To viewAnd in a dream I awoke
Seeing humanity without lovers
Mumbling with no purpose
Screaming without sounds
Writing without inspiration
There was no illumination
Just eternal voidness and no loveAnd I prayed for a thousand cheers
Bringing back the fragrant years
And wiping away all rusted tears
With the hope of a redeemer
He who arose from the damned fires
He who lit the eternal dark shadows
And cast the phantoms
Far from the whispers© 2015 FS Bojenn All Rights reserved.

Image from The Occult University