Tuesday, January 26, 2010


Melting into you I take a new form

Dying in your arms each night to arise again

Your taste drenching my senses

Delicious smells of you lingering

Your touch bruised into my arm...my mark of love...

Copyright Anne Robinson 2010


Poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay

To The Wife Of a Sick Friend

Shelter this candle from the wind.
Hold it steady. In its light
The cave wherein we wander lost
Glitters with frosty stalactite,
Blossoms with mineral rose and lotus,
Sparkles with crystal moon and star,
Till a man would rather be lost than found:
We have forgotten where we are.

Shelter this candle. Shrewdly blowing
Down the cave from a secret door
Enters our only foe, the wind.
Hold it steady. Lest we stand,
Each in a sudden, separate dark,
The hot wax spattered upon your hand,
The smoking wick in my nostrils strong,
The inner eyelid red and green
For a moment yet with moons and roses,—
Then the unmitigated dark.
Alone, alone in a terrible place,
In utter dark without a face,
With only the dripping of the water on the stone,
And the sound of your tears, and the taste of my own.

Will You Call My Name?

March ended with such promise...

April rushed in with new love's blush.

May flowered, and so did we.

But June came,

and the open blossoms felt faint.

Petal by petal,

fluttering, falling,

'til only the core remained.

Even that held hope.

But July bore down,

threatening even the core.

Will we remember May

Or will the ravages of July remain?

Will we remember June

And will you call my name?

Saturday, January 23, 2010