M. Teresa Blaylock
Biography of M. Teresa Blaylock
M. Teresa Blaylock is a full-time student and free-lance writer. Her work has been published in the January 2007 issue of Poesia magazine, and will be published in the September 2008 issue of Aoife's Kiss. You can visit her official website at:
M. Teresa Blaylock's Works:
Mirrors of Darkness and Light (ISBN 1-4241-0359-2)
M. Teresa Blaylock Poems
Bright candlelight flickers - reflects in the pane As shimmering droplets shine wetly outside; I sit in soft shadows and sing with the rain, Content to be swirled within colors of night.
He's the sound of rushing water near my window in the dark - The Muse who sings his secrets to my soul. He's the flicker of a street-lamp watching couples in the park - A shiver in the midnight hour's toll.
Your ocean eyes have touched my tortured soul Like heated waves upon a rocky strand; And like the sand beside a tumbling sea, I melt beneath your gentle, knowing hand.
I sing to myself as I swim by my side, And play in the bubbles that bounce by the shore; Bright moonlight illumines each scale as we glide, But never a rock of the ocean's deep floor.
To Walk The Knife
I cherish quiet friendship more than anything I own, And love the sound of laughter, yet I long to be alone. A solitary spirit on a never-ending quest, I roam a twilight forest as a strange, expected guest,
You tossed all your silver like dice on the stage; But I saw bright gold in your eyes. You wore your silk cape with a nobleman's air, And told me such beautiful lies.
Pink and crimson roses in a vase beside her bed - Stains upon her linen, and the moon is bloody red - Silence echoes sharply but is only hers to hear - Candle on an ancient desk illuminates her fear.
Oh what do you seek when you dance 'neath the moon, The warm summer sweat on your limbs? I'm seeking her guidance; I'm asking a boon, Away from humanity's whims.
I never meant that much to you, Though from Olympus' heights you came; Yet I gave you my mortal love, While you played your immortal game.
He's the sound of rushing water near my window in the dark -
The Muse who sings his secrets to my soul.
He's the flicker of a street-lamp watching couples in the park -
A shiver in the midnight hour's toll.
He's the sweetness of seduction when he finds me in my bed -
The incubus who dances through my dreams.
He's the scent of blood and roses making chaos in my head -
And ev'ry bit as twisted as he seems.