She, Valkyrie cradles tattered remnants a slaughtered spirit, in her intrepid care. Goddess vision greets wounded gaze and I beseech her, to choose life, for an oft wounded, heart. To Valhalla for mead, and her. Salve for the psyche, soul and flesh, of gods mythical, and mortal, and their concubines. ~Marcela: beautifully lost, in a real-time myth, of my own creation. February 18, 2017 Image: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valkyrie
Limerick I have crushed on a sailor named Zeke His ‘Salty’ some havoc did wreak On pink oh-so-tender Defenses useless he rendered With nary a peek or a tweak
Haiku On a tranquil sea A salt and pepper Sailor Quells this raging squall
Cinquain Let’s sail said the sailor my vessel’s safely moored in the haven of (y)our harbour moon’n stars
Yours, fairly unfettered: Myla
February 12, 2017
Poetry and Photographs: All Rights Reserved.