StormSongs

Song I

• 
  My aching pen awakes me Nights;
  My Sleep doth not protect me, steals my right to save my body,
  (yet Gifts me opportunity to cure my Soul...)
  Pain to try to Sleep sans Write...
  Aches to contemplate Write sans Sleep;
  
  I must be clear: I cannot claim to have written anything...not a Word!
  please tell me where the Words are Borne, those sacred Beings, Golden Storms,
  a'glitter in the TwiLight, moored in Evenings' theatres' hues,
  mezclados, like our World, the mixing Wind;
  my siblings All...
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  Song II
  
  

  BlackWoman, White Woman, FuryFull Woman;
  thou art uninvited Guest in our Home;
  Home's aromas: Rich cafe, with wanderlust's cream, dreams of galloping Hills;
  Home's Dreams open wounds, whose echoes screech! ...
  
  Sad we cannot make love to thee; 
  we hide in Home
  we muse, we Read,
  you touch us softly should we peek,
  seductive windows to thy Soul;
   the love you make for us, (sans potential, fatal, ice-carved slides)
  thy whirling, beguiling, TreacheryDance 
  be thy sex a'twirl, or mayhap frigid paper dolls in spin?
  Her latently furious origami finally freed?... 
  

  carefree...AirFree,
  thy conscience awash : constant frozen baptism
  
  Woman, Woman, Woman,
  Your Freedom Play 
  doth blanche our Souls...
  doth blanche our Souls
  Graces, my love
  Graces be thine
  

  
  

  • 

    CherylFaith: Eighteen Billion Jewels Question: but the Storm doesn't enter our Homes, does it?

    
    
  • 

    CherylFaith: Eighteen Billion Jewels Reply: But yes, mi amor, The Storm is here; la Tormenta me duele*
    
    *me duele means "it hurts me" (Spanish)
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    notes:
    

    
    I ached all Day to Write, but could not because my Love felt ill. Dr. Leo & I mended him, ministered to him. Now he tries return to sleep, and I type...

    Thank you so very much for your Read.

    I pray you feel or see inside the Words...

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  Song III

  he asks "Have you been drinking, love?"

  • "what of it?" sneers my twin, 
    Old Egypt's daughter,  Life Before;
    My doppelgänger would never hurt me, 
    but she imbibes peyote pure.
    
    How strange this Life I think I'm living; how unbelievable my name. 
    I hail from nineteenth Century shtetls, Jerusalaim, of Golden Rain.
    I am Star-drenched Dark, as I'm Gifted Life; 
    my people danced glories 'round fugitives' Fires; 
    I'm told I'm a girl from a Gypsy tribe; 
    but...
    all that truly matters:  help my siblings live and thrive;
    I love you all...I pray you Live; I pray you Live, you thrive... CherylFaith
    

    
    

    © CherylFaith Taylor 2013