Mood:  chillin'

My beautiful flower who waits for me, the woman whose love is not tame.

In  prayer I'll delightfully be one heart beating so breathlessly, who never bares sorrow or shame.

A desire grows in our flesh only to savor and mesh, waiting excites me it makes me grow restless, now come to me dear with all of your freshness.

Give me the flower that buds there so willing; I’ll give you a love that is warm and fulfilling

.

Together in waking as we are when we sleep, a new love is binding two souls oh so deep.

Mood:  hug me

August 14, 2002 at 11:42:11 PM by Jill

 

There were once two loves who shared a time when food was good and wine was better. But one loved more and one loved less and the one who loved less gave the one who loved more a Dear John letter.

So the one who loved more, tried to get well and she took a pill and swallowed it whole, then crawled in a cavern like a little old mole.

While the one who loved more passed through a door she bowed and blinked and piddled a bit, but low and behold upon the floor was a big high chair on which she could sit.

She sat there awhile, her frown turned to a smile, as she saw a light shine in the cave.

She strolled right on out and dancing about she felt happy, courageous and brave.

By: JvS © copyright 2005 All Rights Reserved

Mood:  happy

Far away and long ago a mother's heart so true, lest she forgot the merriment t’was in her eyes so blue.
A mother blonde and blue of eyes, so fair her skin was then, but now her flesh is gone from here and won’t come back again.
She was cool and so aloof that no one bid her down, she needed no one but her children, for them she came around.
She traveled life a lonely soul surrounded by a crowd, she was beautiful and one could see she was so very proud.

One day we talked and then she cried for she thought my love was lost; my dream was that she came to me and gave my head a toss.

Who would know the love I had inside my garish soul, only she could ever see this part of me so bold.
A child is but an image of the blood that bore her flesh, and in her image we pass the blood that we bare and we caress.
Our children come to us as we have come to them, yet every child is different and each one, a loving gem.
Pass not our merry lives away without yielding to our discontent; show your love in every way and give your Mom her compliment.

By: JvS © 2002

Gilda Schaal All Rights Reserved

Mood:  chillin'

A little poem

Once I dangled on a string, by that one with the scorpion’s sting.

She took me on a long hard ride then made me cry and made me hide.

Never take for granted the one who'll do you in, keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Keep one hand on your hip and the other one on your holster.

By:  JvS ©

Mood:  chillin'

Fantastic Voyage

She spread her wings to fly away so far into the hills; bluebirds flew around the fairest pixie maidens frills.

As she looked upon the earth she saw a woman running, not curious to know just why, she flew as she was humming.

A swirly sky so bright turned dark and winds were all around her. A dragon seized the woman running as the pixie stopped to ponder.

A silence fell as the woman yelled and the pixie wove a mysterious spell. She sent a gust with a sword like thrust, and to the earth the woman fell.

Beneath the dragons feet the pixie sent a stare, it whisked his fearsome body back to its fiery lair.

As the clouds declined the sun burst forth to open up the sky, the pixie went on singing sweet as she flew so very high.

The woman roamed and searched the earth for everything she thought was here and there and everywhere, her heart so carefully wrought.

A crimson heart of fine design was there upon display; the woman held it in her hands and caressed it on that day.

The medallion she had worn for soothe was placed around her neatly, by Ivory Jade, a fair young maid, who kissed her ever sweetly.

The woman’s search did end as life did slip away, and her fantastic voyage began upon that day.

She spread her wings to fly away so far into the hills, as bluebirds flew around the fairest pixie maidens frills.

She looked upon the earth and saw a woman running, she flew and flew into the night and joined her pixie humming.

By: Gilda Schaal aka JvS  © 2004 All Rights Reserved

Mood:  happy

Witches Roam

They roam around the sky at night on broomsticks glowing neon bright.

An eerie bunch of witchly women,  on an eerie flight.

Green hats tall and floppy like, they screech their nasty laugh.

With willowy long silk robes and a languid flowing sash.

Witches follow the demon moon; with hallow faces and sunken skin.

With humps upon their backs, which resemble a large green fin.

I saw them once when I was young, casting spells of impending doom.

Around a fire big and bright, they chanted their sinewing gloom.

Fire in the noonday sun was sleeping time for them.

They lie around the cauldron just beyond the glen.

My mother told me, "be careful girl, for they are most mischievous."

"Don't go out alone at night, for they are quite so devious."

One night I did go out alone, around the corner I did roam.

A witch was waiting there, to take me to her wicked throne.

She was the queen of blackened hearts that soar upon this earth.

Her intention was to swallow me, inside her witch’s girth.

She mesmerized the children with evil staring eyes.

Knowing that the children would be her tasty prize.

She held her finger pointedly beckoning them to come.

They followed her so daintily for twenty jiggers of rum.

I would not let her take me there, so diligently I fought;

To keep her at a distance, so she could take me naught.

I ran away with speedy feet, around the block I ran.

I ran into another witch that looked just like a man.

I ran so fast, in fear I gasped, whilst in my hand, a knife I clasped.

She caught me at my door; I thrust the knife in deep;

She never said a word when she fell down at my feet.

As I was breathing heavily I heard her cry a sigh;

A sigh a witch will always cry, when they are about to die.

I prayed to my father above to teach this witch to love;

And as she flew away she turned into a dove.

Who would have thought an evil witch could sprout such pretty wings.

And fly above the sky so high with other pretty things.

I woke up in the morning and ran to tell my friend,

about the dream that I just had, so glad that it did end.

Gilda V Schaal aka JVS Ó 2005 - 2010 All Rights Reserved