Incendiary

                    Incendiary 
Resplendent under the night sky
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Her allure, all but inescapable
She summons, then she seduces
You’d resist, but you’re incapable

Helpless, you gravitate to her
Your attention compulsively drawn
Stoked, with sensory anticipation

Eyes cast, over the glistening lawn

The faint moon peers cautiously down
A vague thought in the distance
Her will, demanding your presence

Her passion, breathing insistence

As enticing as she is unpredictable
Her intensity, pushes you away
Her warmth, always pulls you back 
Her intrigue, compels you to stay

Both incendiary and intoxicating  
She has curious hypnotic powers
Getting lost in the possibilities
You could gaze at her for hours

You find nuances to her every hue
The lick of her playful flames
Dancing in different directions
Engaged in spirited games

Provide what she needs, she exhales
Nourished, she swells from inside
Ignore her, or leave her unattended
And her fervor will slowly subside

Reminded of her precarious nature
Her sudden sparks keep you leery
Yet, beside her, you find soothing comfort 
And a warmth that makes you weary

An empty glass resting beside you
You bask, in the waning glow
As difficult as it is to get up
You both just seem to know

You rise, as the last of her falls
It is not the will that you lack
Recovering your balance, your focus
You take one hopeful look back

Spent, you find a flicker of life
Your pleasure, impossible to hide
The smell of the night on your body
You let the stars guide you inside

 

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Precarious

Precarious
Every morning I see him
barely hanging on 
Dangling, precariously
under a lingering moon

Managing to endure
despite his battered shell
A razor piece of skin
holding him up high

Been torturous months
since that horrendous storm
Shattered his foundation
destroying his lofty view

Many extreme days since
of ice and punishing wind
Chipping away his perseverance
diminishing his resolve

I imagine his motivation
the reason for his strength
The last strand of resilience
that holds him there

The harsh and bitter elements
cracking through his will
Leaving him alone, wavering
on the brink of his demise

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I check on him again
battered by days end
Still hanging on, barely
by that same thread of hope

Any quick jab of pride
is quickly superseded
Replaced by the reality
of what lies ahead

Knowing that rest is fleeting
as night brings the unknown
One thin strand of determination
preserving his weary soul

Nights of wavering doubts
of cold and cruel struggle
Exhausting his perseverance
diminishing his resolve

I imagine his thoughts
through this arduous battle
Through the repetitive rigours
of winter’s constant extremes

Recognizing his own inevitability
his slight, precarious being
Perhaps, hoping not to fall
until the warm ground of spring

 

Suspended

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Suspended
A wind worn branch,

reduced to a splinter.
I am a rabbit hole,
hidden beneath winter.

The morning starts out the same…
With smiles and good intentions
With energy and lofty goals
  But, the minutes are ticking
Toward the end of both
Toward the mid-day lull
Imagination grinding to a halt
Hitting the proverbial wall.

Wheels locked in place,
 gears wanting in power.
I am time standing still,
hand stuck on the hour.


The reluctant optimist,

 hopeful that there is more.
I am a tree lined road,
winding to the shore.

There is a fine line in place…
That separates good from great
That distinguishes less from more
 Potential, on the threshold of change
Sometimes it meets a path
Sometimes it’s on a ledge
The brink of a breakthrough
 Precariously near the edge.

An expanse from a destination,
 a misstep from being lost.

I am a suspension bridge,
 longing to be crossed.


The battered pitcher,
that’s been to the well.
I am the grizzled veteran,
  with stories left to tell.

Personal insights ready to be shared…
Seeing the importance of each day
Seeing the enormity of the little things
So much potential, yet to be met
Bringing along a passion for life
Bringing an open book to the table

The mind is more than willing
The body, fighting to be able.

A semi-automatic rifle,
unsure of where it’s aimed.
I am the winning lottery ticket,
waiting to be claimed.

 

 

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