Mark

Pinched between my words and woes
Rubbed smooth between my lips
This honeysuckle rose,
Preened and plumed and picked

Between the glassy gossamer
Ensnared between the sheets
Nightshade in her eyes
Your vying violet creeps

Planted within my memory
And bound within my thoughts
With eyes between fresh lavender
And blue forget-me-nots

Grace my face dear buttercup
And wait between the page
My words may rot and fade away
But my mark will never age

-Galwyn

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Train

The train is tight
I’m not constrained
Beyond those dazzling eyes contained
Within the stoic facial frame
Of beauty on the seat

My breath is light
My legs restrained
Yet heart escaped, passion aflamed
I fantasize about your name
And loving hopes replete

The doors open
I find my feet
And from your beauty,

I retreat

-Galwyn

Cat

Her name was Cat –
Only with sharper eyes
She was my duchess
Strong and wise
Her lethal wit
My one demise
For in her presence
One might devise
A heart which would not
Compromise
Yet this would only agonize
For her romance could
Mesmerise
One’s love for her
Might terrorize
Yet I would never criticize
Her charms were made to catalyze –
Ah, those charming eyes of Cat

-Galwyn

Phantom

In a garden now salted
A blossom did grow
Born of passion once felt
Such a long time ago

Yet she plucked forth my heart
As a penance to throw
To a stranger above
With a virtue below

High on the stage
Where our feelings detach
I once leapt to your arms
As you failed to catch
I abscond from your stage
Bowing my final act
The act of a phantom
To never come back

-Galwyn

Patter

Unsure if it’s the sound of tears
Or distant static
Pattering the windowsill
Or swarming upon the screen

A place of still water
Static rain
Where only mosquitos might be

Writhe your tongue to my heart
And feast on the deafening silence
Inside, outside, without, within
Low white noise on crystal skin

-Galwyn