moon batchelder

take me! reclaim me!
o earth that has made me!
govern my being compleat
til you tame me,
...

gather them, gather them
into your hand,
year after year like some
great pile of sand,
...

not his lover - but his angel.
he wasn't made - for her.
but heaven - had arranged it so
that she - his needs preferred
...

shine!
moon's light
also borrows from stars
be who you are!
...

if only my poetry
soothed like a balm
if only the verses
rehearsd in my mind
...

a thousand lines of poetry
a thousand reasons to believe
in such a thing as muses singing
touching deepest part.
...

i hear spirits!
dare i say it?
faeries tell me things...
whispering like misty mornings
...

trust is not like sword delaying
somewhere overhead
(of damocles or other, praying
for release from dread.)
...

a life well lived is fraught with stains.
some are forever set,
and last beyond remembrance of their cause.
like grassy green on favorite jeans
...

lady of the lake am i,
a watcher in the wood;
a restless spirit glowering,
depending on the mood;
...

the light invaded darkness once that was.
its brightness lay to waste the perfect night,
and blackness stained, blood seeping through the gauze
which hides a wound, while crimson rose on white
...

the place where poetry resides
what mortal soul can tell?
'twere easier to say whence comes a dream.
what course the wind of heaven rides,
...

there is
no such a thing as me.
that is - if God be infinite,
it seems a blatant blaspheme
...

they touch
not deep enough to feel.
their love,
a show of lust.
...

my god, my lover is, my self;
my heart, it's highest thought, my soul;
the very air, my only breath,
my god in truth is all of this.
...

a butterfly won't linger til it's wings
are torn and tattered,
as if only one thing mattered:
it's own being.
...

black cat hunting butterflies
stalks then pounces, never mind
he's yet to capture single one!
enraptured in his feline fun,
...

barking dogs float
on a moat of fog.
hawks shriek by
kamikazi pilot like...
...

i look forward to a next time
but if that should never happen
i would be content with passion's memory.
for what has love to do with lust?
...

i know where,
if nothing else.

i know with whom,
...