| Love |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
|
| Note that most of the poems here are taken from my membership days as a poet at the PoetryBoard. It was a chatboard where we converse in poetry and hiakus. It was a real challenge because some of the members were really good. I've tried to put a name to the poems although there were many that I couldn't remember. Most do not have titles, as like I've said, they were our conversations and conversations do not come with titles. I've tried giving them one but still some are better without. : ) See if you can guess which ones were written by me. |
 |
| Madame Fontenay, with an eye for the eerie, her song is of blaspheme, her drug makes me weary. Her sabbath engulfs me, her stare then absorbs me, my life hangs on each thread she weaves. Lost in her passion, love is her fashion, she wears me like no one else could. She bathes me in oils, lusting in spoils, of fragrances new to my senses. Madame Fontenay, oh, where will you take me, when again, you come for your due? I lay here in waiting, anticipating, my next dark encounter with you. |