Saturday, 14 April 2012

An Ugly Woman

I have a blind date says I to Billy
She is the one that hosts at The Blues on the west side of the city
Egad! moans Billy I know her man
She is an ugly woman

At her home..I am full of fear and apprehension
I cannot make a decision
I have tapped her door..but I want to run
She is after all, Billy says, an ugly woman

The air rushes by as she swings open her door
My eyes take her in and immediately hit the floor
She says hello and come on in here
Her voice is smooth and sweet on my ear

I take a risk..and look into her eyes
A deep blue, the kindness is clear, they mesmerize
The wrinkles at the corners are hardly crows feet
But tracks of love and knowledge of great things complete

Her lips are full and familiar with laughter
She has the grace of wisdom, the gifts of sons and daughters
When she takes my hand in her own
I can feel the strength and still, the gentleness she has shown

And when she took me into her embrace
I knew that heaven had more than one beautiful face
A lovely woman with needs and passions
Her strength only moved by my muscles blissful contraction

Billy is a handsome fool its true
This lady I have met is beautiful through and through
And in the mirror on the wall in her hall
Is the ugliest man of all
Gunner©





Tuesday, 3 April 2012

The Ladders Angel


 I found myself, once again, clutching a rung of Jacobs ladder
 contemplating my choices and other rathers
 And here the past spread out before me
 the future, only a glimpse from the rung above that I could see

 And there below me spoke an angel in all its glory
 "Hello again poor Man, its been a wonderful story"
 I laughed out loud the way only joy can
 and wondered if this being I loved misunderstood the god given gifts of man

For pity the angel, not scorn,
who will never find death and be reborn
or the demon who drowns in his own lust
never a breath of calm to fill it's withered soul gone to dust

We will each, the angel and I,  admire the beautiful rose
but it is I that finds the gift of the roses' scent in my nose
The angel will be what it be for an eternity
while I for an eternity, live and die but choose each time what I will be

And if we throw ourselves into the sea
It is I that will  feel the cold cloak of its squeeze on me
While the angel remains stout and strong
The physical senses you see, to it just do not belong

Tell me sweet angel
What know you of hate and rage or envy at your table
While I have swam in their fires
My soul taught the measure of their power untired

We see the sun you and I, its beauty undefined
Unlike you, I feel its heat, the warmth great and kind
We see my child born and grow
I feel her heart beat, her breath on my brow

And so you see my magnificant creature
We have gifts each with different features
Yours like the large decorative box void, but ribboned and bowed
Mine perhaps damaged and torn, but full with a heart of gold

Poor Angel of mine so dear
To make it real and so clear
of all my sorrows and joys, I wish I could gift you a small portion of each
and show you why I have come again, the rung in my reach
Gunner ©