Take It. [poesy]

Take it: My pen, and be enundated no longer with my pedantic, rambling streams; My hands, and suffer no too gentle caress any longer; My tongue, and be seiged with no passionate protests or sharp challenges against safe silence; My body, and harass yourself no more with fantasy of the sweetness of mine Eden’s fruit;…

The Jeweler

She was a raw opal stone – A rough and brilliant fire; What set him apart Was the idea to craft a setting all her own, Cradling high with arms of gold that would hold no other, Rather than cut her down To fit the premolded designs of the rest.