Month: October 2017

Millennial Mediocrity

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Millennial Mediocrity

By J. Lynne Moore

Chasing after the,
fevered lack of humanity,
simple is the mind;
that walks these dreams,
and refuses contemplation.

Hoarding nonsense,
among the want and will;
words are cast off…
they have no weight,
they have no rhyme.

Sensibility is lost,
and not found, daring
to forever break,
tactile consciousness,
rendering humanity mute.

Wisdom is white washed,
surrendering to mediocrity,
who, in its triumph,
births the impudence
of mere tolerance.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Cat Date

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Cat Date

By J.Lynne Moore

What do I say, to those in love;
that carry on like, cooing turtledove.

Do I scorn their love so sweet?
When they display, affection on the street.

Does my temper flare and rage,
as another couple walks out on the stage?

Do you see me weep and pine,
because I don’t hear, “You are mine”?

Heavens no! For goodness sake!
Love to me, has too high a stake!

For me… my cat, is the perfect mate!
She makes for a splendid, dinner date.

Never once has she been unkind;
a more amiable companion, you will never find.

She does not ever have a complaint,
I think I would say she is quite a saint!

Oh, her hair…makes quite a mess;
but I shan’t complain, about her dress.

This may sound all very queer;
I assure you it’s not, she’s quite a dear.

So, you can keep, all your lovey stuff;
To me it seems to be nothing but fluff.

As for me…and my sweet cat;
We are a perfect pair, and that is that.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Dreaming of Avalon

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Dreaming of Avalon

By J. Lynne Moore

Oh, you mists of Avalon,
hiding enchantments fair.
Grant me entry hence,
to see your beauties rare.

Allow me to gaze upon,
your lofty secrets grand;
pixies, fairies, unicorns,
all the riches of your land.

May I lay my head, gentle,
among the flora, sweet?
And drink your lake waters,
where haps the Lady I may meet.

Would that Merlin might grant,
an audience to the likes of me.
I would beseech the ol’ fellow,
to share a quaint cup of tea.

And if by luck or by grace,
Arthur should happen my way.
I think I should count it a blessing
if in his court he lets me stay.

Oh, my dearest Avalon…
Allow me through your misty gates.
Tease me not with your reveries,
for with in your arms my dreams await.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Remembering Daddy

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Remembering Daddy

By J. Lynne Moore

Canary smiles flit,
to faces in the room;
airplanes of paper wit,
thrown out upon the gloom.

Remembrances passed around,
free of charge or back tax.
Flowing with love unbound,
seeping into all our cracks.

His ashes a centerpiece…
tangible evidence, proof,
of the man we all caprice.
As we gather beneath his roof.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Witching Hour

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Witching Hour

By J. Lynne Moore

death be damned
at the curtain call
the devil shouts,
“T’is last call!!”

demons cheer
banshee’s shriek
the witching hour
begins to peak

a free for all
begins tonight
lock your doors
stay out of sight

hell’s door opens
on the midnight hour
purgatory’s spawn
walk in power

gnashing teeth
tickle your ears
spectral hands
bring you fear

they know your sins
and will not wait
transgressions awarded
they’ll seal your fate

hark, the witching hour
now in full swing
spirits of hell frolic
with death to bring

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Death of a Stone

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Death of a Stone

By J. Lynne Moore

In sorrow the stone lays,
Un-moving in the cutting rain.
Greedily, the earth beneath,
Drinks the stone’s sandy pain.

Each chilling drop, a dagger,
Plunging into the stone’s heart;
Carrying away the substance,
Tearing the stone apart.

There once was a time…
When the stone was a bolder, grand.
Mighty and massive, hulking,
Until the rain turned it to sand.

The stone, soon only a pebble,
Washed away in the laughing rain.
Who will remember the stone?
As it softly weeps in vain.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Midnight Snack

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Midnight Snack

By J. Lynne Moore

A half-cracked quack,
With scalpelled hand;
Cuts through the chest,
To reveal the great expand.

The life drum beating,
Before the wicked quack…
To the rhythm of the beat,
A steaming midnight snack.

With a flick and a glint,
For a moment more it thumps.
Slurpy, slurp…crunch…
Into his mouth it jumps.

Warm blood now dripping,
From the quack’s vile chin…
His hunger stayed for now,
But tomorrow he’ll do it again.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved

Dinner With The Redcaps

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Dinner with the Redcaps

By J. Lynne Moore

The shadow of night,
Drips through the trees,
A raven’s caw, caw,
Butchers the breeze.

Crimson eyes flicker,
Parading on high,
Draw you closer,
But you don’t know why.

A shudder of fear,
Tickles your mind.
Is this all a dream?
Can you make it rewind?

The trap is sprung,
The nightmare’s real!
Dinner for the Redcaps…
They dine with zeal!

A/N: Redcaps are a malevolent type of goblin type creature that is said to inhabit abandoned castles and said to kill strangers that take refuge in the castles.

© 2016 -2017 Cashmere Illusions.blog /J.Lynne Moore All Rights Reserved