Written for the 2010 book loveaddict, the poet insists that this poem contains hidden secrets about some lovers in his past.
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in wisps and whispers.
fire and ice.
I sold my soul.
I paid the price.
and all the angels
fled my bed
for what was thought
and what was said.
and whiskers twitch
in subtle breeze
as deities
do what they please.
leaving just
the scribe of note
who marks the time
but has no vote.
the statues fall
for lightning strike.
and actors call
when hemlines hike.
the songbirds nest
in forests deep
to pray the cats
tonight will sleep.
the gypsies dance
on matted soil
and keep the trance
with fragrant oil.
the minstrels strum
and figure rhyme
as we all hum
to keep the time.
the butterflies
and beasts of lore
give muffled cries
and ask the floor.
but moments still
take up the hour
and time we kill
transcends whims' power.
my memories
I regret not, and yet.
I weep for faces
I shall not forget.
I kiss, in sleep,
that trace of light
that danced just once
then fled my sight.
William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.