The Glade (Rhemy's Tail, Part III)

Rhemy walked, and then he hopped,
into the morning sun,
dark clouds gone and morning long,
would greet his fear undone,

for passing out of old and known,
he found a glade where the sun had shone,
for ages yet, and more to come,
would light his fear undone,

cautious now, and creeping low,
he pushed between the thorn
and the rose

and there to him the wood would show,
what his fate had borne;
what he chose

sitting in the noonday sun,
grooming fur and ears,
looking up at every sound,
twitching nose at fears,

alabaster coat and devilish pink eyes
enticing him with scent and grace,
shocking, twist, surprise

and so toward that elegance,
he stumbles toward this vision,
this place of peace and radiance

she looks up, startled, at his appraoch,
and makes to bolt, her legs achurn,
his voice calls out
"wait don't go!"
she hesitates, eyes aglow
fear in every beat

"my name is Rhemy," he said, urbane
and she replies with not a word

"i'm new here, wand'ring" he says
and she relaxes not at all

"i saw you from the thicket,
and tho i know you not,
i had to make an entrance,
and entreat you to a thought,
of you and me and sunlight calling,
of bounding through the field,
of caring not for fear or hunger,
or steel that humans wield,
is this not right?
tho' all afright,
you sit and stare at me?
can we not be
more than just strangers?"

she stood for moments long,
and at last gave a yawn,
then opened her mouth to speak ...

Run Away (Rhemy's Tail, Part II)

the clouds would gather,
dark and serene,
moving across the sky

as Rhemy moved across the land,
searching for what,
and knowing not why

within the dark wood,
sinister eyes and gleaming fangs,
did follow his every move

and he wouldn't know,
how everything was coming down,
until the rain poured and proved

that even tho' he,
courage bound and forward sped,
was walking the line of doom

the break in the wind,
the cold sun was dead,
and he fractured his only tomb

into the fray and into the fight,
away from the day and without the light,
to darkness he's bound,
despair he will find,

but that wouldn't keep him,
from living his life,
from seeking adventure,
and searching the new,
and someday his corpse
would rot in the dew,
of morning come late,
and dark, ugly fate

because he refused to run away

A Start (Rhemy's Tail, Part I)

Rhemy left his hole one day,
one afternoon of sun
he wanted to see the horizon,
and so his adventure's begun
"goodbye" he said, to family and friend,
"perhaps" he mused "one day i will be back"

"why?" said his mother "why must you go?
everything you want is here in the hole,
so nothing you seek can be so glorious,
as your home and your dinner,
as the comfort of us"

amused, Rhemy was, and he shook his long ears,
"i'm not so sure mother, but over the years,
i've looked out the hole, at grass and at knoll,
i've seen other animals passing us by.
i've smelled of their coats, the sheep and the goats,
and all i could think then is 'why?'
why must we stay here? safe and secure?
why must i be nice, polite and demure?
why can't i go see, what o'er the next hill lies?
why do we hop, and run and disguise?
i want to see more, than what we have here,
and i hope you'll remember that i hold you all dear
and when i return, we'll talk of these things,
of what i have seen and the presents i'll bring."

His mother was sad, but she knew she could not
keep him from going, from living his lot
and so lunch she made him, and sent him along
she told him "be careful" and wept all day long

As Rhemy waved to his family and friends,
he looked back once, and knew this was not the end
but a beginning of fun, of adventure, and glee
of danger perhaps, of times when he'd flee
but most of all, he knew, in his small furry heart
that a story with a happy ending always requires
a start

Shamed

if every little slimy thing
that walks on legs or soars on wing
and cries and calls and waits alone
would drop dead now i'd not bemoan
the lack of sound, the hole of life
that's left behind, the lack of strife
it would be nice to feel and be
without those bastards
stepping on me

they watch and wait, they find the bait
and dangle it before my searching eyes
they hold it out, catcall and shout
and draw me on with their lies
that they care and that they share
and keep me on the floor
i'd break my knee from courtesy
before i find the door

and when i snap that will be that
and lack a meaning at all
for if being me is just a pain
then all i want is surcease

if i am kind and sweet of mind and keep me from being rude
can't they see that it's for the good of all of us?
i try and be what i'd like to see, manners without crude
but when it's pushed into my face
that worthless is all i am
then all i want is the end of days
and be a solitary man

Choice

"Choice"

staring out the window
at people passing by,
wondering why the devil
is in my heart and eye,

wondering why i sit, with thoughts that start and flit,
and make me ask such questions without reason,
is it true that we cannot be more than me and you,
or is there such a thing as healing season?

i won't give in to that evil touch
of paranoid and twisted inky thread
the thoughts that leave me shattered
and fill my spirit with unintentioned dread
if such a thing as truth exists,
it cannot be so far,
that we are yet unable to find this,
no matter where we are

so here i sit, staring and sigh,
working myself out of a high
that was brought by my own hand,
and gave me to that promised land,
invented by my own and yours,
the window too small,
the room with no doors

on nights like this
i truly wish
that You could hold me near
but so far apart are we,
separated by land and sea
and air that can't be borne or breathed

beyond the sinful sights
of wearied, weathered nights,
of winter's bones and chill,
of harvest's starving rumble,

i try and make the future bright,
to seek the dark and shun the light,
to find that surcease of will,
and submit to a last tumble,

for in the hands of fate,
i've placed my final call,
this pain will not abate,
as through the glass i fall

beyond the plaintive cries,
of hidden, seething lies,
of fear that petrifies,
there is one simple voice,

it mourns aloud, and scares the flock,
and sends the dreams that burn and shock,
and makes the last and final

choice

Unsung

Pieces of Eight,
Barrels of Hate,
and a windward ship called only "Zephyr"

one hundred men dead,
or wounded in bed,
and a bow that is broken and tethered

the Zephyr sails on toward the rising dawn,
and her galley is full of all worthless

each of them hung, and no song left unsung, when the sunset has finally come

but one stands alone, within his own bones, and wearied from searching for more

the everlong winter, of begging for dinner, has landed but never on shore

the sails they snap and the lines will crack as every hand turns now against him but he will not break and tho he will quake within the walls of his prison,

the afterimage burns, of the One whom he spurned, ripping through heart and through spirit

piercing he cries, and reviling dies, he sinks to the depths below

and from this sad scene, comes the spectre unseen, and carries away bones and soul

to Hades and Hell, beyond this life's veil, a binding is what he will know

for every one moment, and every lost lament, he'll break out in sores and blisters

from now till no more, the game has no score, and he has no brothers or sisters

it's time for the end, time's purse o'erspent, and sing does the Zephyr;

no more

The Wood of Trust and Truth

"The Wood of Trust and Truth"



Not too long ago,
and not so far away,
he would sit and wonder,
why she'd gone away,

and hidden by the night time,
sheltered from the day,
he would try and keep Her,
at arm's length; at bay.

but shadows will be melted,
and questions go astray,
when answers do not matter,
the Heart will have it's say.

within his castle, so strong,
and circled by their stone,
he shivered and cried anguish,
merely flesh and bone.

the walls were raised in terror,
their mortar was his fear,
and no soul could ever climb them,
and none inside could hear,

his song was sung unheeded,
his Heart made cold as steel,
and yet he held to Passion,
and Love his high ideal,

he thought he'd found that in her,
and happily was lost,
his Heart he thought had melted,
the steel removed of frost,

but truth cannot be forged,
and Love cannot be won,
Passion is not contest,
and two cannot be one.

her speech had yet bewitched him,
within his castle, high,
and poisoned blood would follow,
her every word a lie.

yet far from him there was hope,
in the woods beyond his home,
She was fair and loyal,
and love was all She'd shown,

to him it was still hidden,
this Keeper of his Heart,
but She would still protect him,
and play his reason's part.

for clouded by her weaving,
of illusion and of scheme,
he couldn't know her leaving,
would reveal the hope unseen.

he could not escape reason,
nor hide inside his dome,
the Truth would sell his freedom,
and lies he'd not condone.

for tho' she'd left him empty,
helpless and bereaved,
the True Key would yet turn him,
away from heartache's sea.

She had always been there,
and not once approved of her,
and She had sought to hold him,
protected from the lure,

the lure of falsehoods uttered,
as if they were yet true,
She sought to keep him painless,
and sought to love him too,

and tho' he could not see Her,
beyond his self-raised wall,
She had ever been there,
and listened for his call.

the call She was expecting,
with Heart and Soul in hand,
and never once suspecting,
his wings would ever land,

but land they did at last,
and blindly he sought Her out,
knowing not his reason,
with sorrow in his shout,

the clouds had at last lifted,
and shown him for a fool,
having wanted Passion,
he'd been, himself, a tool,

by which she had amused self,
and which she had put down,
when finally she vanished,
in memory he'd drown.

he was cursed, of that he was sure,
and it was his own fault, for hearing her lure,
but nothing new is ever done,
by those who walk under the sun,
and poisons grow where they will,
without a care for good or ill,
beyond the time when we are blind,
there is still more that we can find,
it's called True Love, and it is real,
but only when we WANT to feel,
can we find that which we seek,
the Heart to heal, from foot to peak,
of mountain tall, and valley low,
not too far or long ago,
beyond the veil of lust or tooth,
within the wood of Trust and Truth,

(flesh and bone and mind are all,
very well and useful,
but only one who hears the Call,
can bear the Love that's truthful)

She heard his call and answered,
when he was torn and bled,
She knew he had yet suffered,
and feared his Heart was dead.

But when he came upon Her,
waiting for him still,
he knew at last the answer;
her memory he'd kill.

for she had oft betrayed him,
and stated good intent,
but never did she answer,
when his song he sent.

Always it had been Her,
forever and a day,
She would never cut him,
or hurt him in that way.

She'd tried Her best to warn him,
to keep him from this pain,
She'd held him when he was broken,
loved him time and again,

as friend and lover, in passion and comrade,
as concsience and as armor,
in good times and in bad,
She had always been there,
She had always cared,
She had rejoiced with him,
and soothed him when he was scared,

seeing now his scars, and crying for him too,
She knew that She could heal him,
if he would let Her do,
what She most desired, he would come to feel,
when Her true Love for him,
would melt his Heart of Steel.

and honest this time was he,
with himself and with her now,
he knew that he had been wrong,
and wondered She at how,

how he'd come to find Her,
at last among the wood,
how he had seen Love here,
and wondered if he could.

could he care for Her now,
could it be so true,
couldn't he be fleeing,
from the pain imbued?

but time will cure our ailments,
and time will heal all lies,
and time did show Her answers,
True Love within his eyes.

it is not decision, nor wholly abject fate,
but somewhere in between them,
is where True Love will wait,
just as She had waited, in Her heart and mind,
so now She was rewarded by his love in kind.

he knew beyond the shadows,
he saw beyond the wall,
he felt within his Spirit,
that She would hear his call.

and call to Her he did now,
and answer him She would,
and all at once their sorrow,
did vanish where T/they stood.

and now the pain has left T/them,
and now T/they let it go,
and now T/they are not grieving,
for what T/they have to show.


Once in walls, and once did roam,
the two of T/them together, yet alone,
Upon the chance of Union,
T/they will bet T/their lives.

From present day 'til Kingdom Come,
What was sundered and undone,
Behold! Rejoice! At last!
the T/two;
made One.

Long Romance

"Long Romance"

If i could track it all back,

i'd do it right now,

but i don't know the when,

and i don't know the how,

of where it all began.

it's not that i have ever,

believed in "now or never",

but once and again,

i've felt the loss of heart,

not lack of courage,

but the suffering part,

and tho' i never gave up on it,

i have to wonder as i sit,

if there really is and end to now,

and will we be alone somehow,

without the call of distant sons,

within the arms of loving ones,

who speak to us of long romance,

of lives that come and go.

they wait for us in time and chance,

and we can't really know,

but when they come into our lives,

and wash away all the lies,

the loss, defeat, and fear,

they will fly from here,

and we'll be left,

with just us two,

in the darkened night,

of me and You

so speak to me of long romance,

of those that come and go,

i'll wait for you in wish and chance,

and time will only flow,

beyond that hill that keeps us two,

that stalls the time of me and You,

and on this rock of faith i'll stay,

until the sunset breaks across day,

forever isn't such a long time,

when waiting for the divine,

the love that lasts isn't "now",

it always will be and has been,

so the mortal soul can only try

to avoid that faithless sin,

that we call despair,

we wait, we share,

we love and hope,

that "once upon a time",

they spoke,

we'll sing to all of long romance,

of times that came and went,

and the patient love that came to us,

and say it's heaven sent.

without a chance,

there's nothing kept,

so sing and hope,

and know you've wept,

and waited once upon a time.

and you'll remember long romance,

of lives that grew and died,

and in the end it was worth the wait,

and knowing that you tried.

sing of long romance.

Mine

"Mine!" She says,

and he cries out,

a whimpered, battered, ragged shout,

"yes" he coos,

and She is still,

Her hand upon his collared will,

the lights are dim and sounds are soft,

the praise and pain keep them aloft,

and no one knows outside the walls,

how fast he comes,

when Her voice calls.

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