Poetry

WHY DOES SHE COME

Why does she come, when she knows my love is nothing, but hell?
Why does she come, when she knows I have nowhere to dwell?
Why does she come, when she knows I own neither gold nor pearl?

Maybe, it’s love—I guess so,
Or she just likes my eyes’ glow.

I can’t tell,

But I know, in a sec, our love will fade away,
And we’ll become a memory of yesterday.

I don’t want her lips to utter, “Had I known”
Before she realises that she’d always been alone.

You see, everything about me isn’t real,
So I need her to change how she feels.

Tell her, please tell her that I’m a mistake,
And all I can offer to her young love is heartaches.

©TurksonQuills, 2021.

Poetry

I YEARN TO CALL YOU BEAUTIFUL

I have seen a lot
Been with a lot
Touched a lot
The fair and the dark.
The dark converted to fair
And the fair converted to dark .
But how shall I describe you?
For your skin’s ambience is like the countenance of a seraphim.
Your teeth sparkle
Even when the sun is shinning at his best.

How I wish to call you beautiful.
But they say ,
True beauty is from within.
Since I have not entered you yet ,
I shall refrain from calling you beautiful.

But exotic…I can!
For your hair’s smoothness and curl
And your sweet scented lavenda perfume
Makes you priceless.
Your perfectly coined calf
Makes me idolize your body each night.
My room might be dark
But surely,
Your waist shall give me light.

Come ,
Let us fry our eggs together this night
For I yearn to call you beautiful!


BY CHARLES ANDERSON
#charlesthelambentwriter

Poetry

WAILING QUILL

Have you ever seen words

That pierce the heart like arrows,

Or a nest inhabiting not birds,

But a crowd of bedfellows?

Maybe, just maybe a yes.

I met her on the sunshine of March.

Perhaps shining, but she was an angel of mess.

She seemed a perfect match

With glows of the august colours of petals.

Her aura defined betrayal’s serenity,

For her beauty portrayed meaning of lethal

Outlining its sin to love’s eternity.

She made my heart bleed

the inks of a wailing quill

© TurksonQuills

#SAFE