One Winged Angel

One Winged Angel

By J. Lynne Moore

Oh my one winged angel,
Dark and brooding…
Seen through my eyes.
My child of the night,
Born in the secret place.
You crafted my heart.

Oh my one winged angel,
Once left, twice returned.
Oh fatherless son of mine.
My moon, my stars,
Following the unseen path,
Fear holds us not.

Oh my one winged angel,
Love’s paradox cradles us;
Holding us hostage in time.
My breath, my life’s blood,
Heaven’s flightless angel…
of the shadows.

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

Squatters

Squatters

By J. Lynne Moore

Voices speaking in the vent;
just squatters that pay no rent.

Called a taxi, but they won’t go;
seems I’m the star of this dog and pony show.

They lick my wounds,
and sing for me; self-righteousness tunes.

In my ear night and day,
not even the angels can keep them at bay.

They tell me they are just like Robin Hood;
believing their lies sometimes feels good.

Someday I may spit them out.
Eviction?….I’m not that stout.

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

Rotten Words

Rotten Words

By J. Lynne Moore

Words upon words…
Meaning, full of not.
Voice of nothingness,
The kettle calling the pot.

Babbling of a barren brook,
Chatter full of rot.
Tongue of twisted words,
The kettle calling the pot.

Whispers full of venom,
Lies never caught…
The music of a gossip,
The kettle called the pot.

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

Love Poems…Not!

Love Poems…Not!

By J. Lynne Moore

I don’t like writing love poems,
They really make me quite ill,
I’d rather swallow a big o’ horse pill!

All that lovey, mushy stuff,
I find it awfully gross,
Pretty lame and a bit morose.

I’d much prefer to write about,
A Viking warship at sea,
That’s what’s exciting to me.

So within my poems and prose,
You will never ever find,
The lovey, dovey poem kind.

For as you can clearly see,
If it were all up to me,
Poetry would be love free!

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

Dancing Shadow

Dancing Shadow

By J. Lynne Moore

that shadow dancing
on the wall
resembles me
but then again
not at all
slumbering through
my waking day
this shadow follows
me in every way
I haven’t got a clue
you see
I have no idea
what it wants
with me
does it wish me ill
will it do me harm
or…is it following me
as my lucky charm
the shadow dancing
in the light
haunts me
in the night
is the shadow who I am
or is it who I want to be

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

Last Goodbye

Last Goodbye

By J. Lynne Moore

I’ll dance not, upon your grave;
Though you, in life, were a knave.

Tender, your kiss, once made me shine,
Like the blossoms of the honeysuckle vine.

Then turned cold, your wicked embrace,
Leaving tears to stain my face.

I will not deny my bitter disdain;
That left my heart spent and mind insane.

But never did I wish for death to befall,
Your wretched soul, ‘twas your own downfall.

Yet, here I stand in a mourner’s gown,
As tears salt the rain cascading adown.

Is heaven or hell your newfound home?
Or does your soul hover betwixt the gloam?

A day may come whence we meet again…
‘Till that time, my life, I shall feign.

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

Moon

Moon

By J. Lynne Moore

Hello, crescent moon,
Winking in the night.
Shall we share this moment?
A heavenly delight.

Will you listen to my heart;
And give me good advice?
Is love worth a chance,
Shall I pay the price?

Oh dearest silver moon,
Dancing in the sky.
Do you hear my pleadings?
Do you hear me asking why?

Show me the right path.
Can you light my way?
For love is a fickle creature;
I know you must have some sway.

Goodnight crescent moon,
I must bid you adieu.
May we meet tomorrow?
For I’m in love with you…

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

Black and White

Black and White

By J. Lynne Moore

This pallet holds no colors,
Only hues of black and white;
And when they meet in the middle,
Grey covers all in sight.

Sometimes it’s the grey of a dove.
Sometimes it’s the grey of night.
But it’s always a smoky hue,
That knows no wrong or right.

Only one way to separate the colors,
And paint them in the proper light.
We need the grace of a Savior,
To draw away the darkness with His Might.

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