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Raynette Eitel

Bury Me With Chocolates

Bury me with chocolates,
The kind I love so well.
Send dark and bitter candy wreaths
With leaves of caramel.

Chocolate chip tears upon my cheeks,
White chocolate pillows filled with creams
To soothe me in my final sleep
And sweeten all my heavenly dreams.

Place one lone lovely chocolate rose
With petals curling in my hand.
Heap gold foil coins in random piles,
Egyptian-like, and oh so grand.

Please do not toast me with champagne,
A rich hot chocolate will do,
Laced with a touch of cinnamon
And then perhaps marshmallows too.

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Fog Holds Lights

FOG HOLDS LIGHTS

Fog holds lights in soft hands stroking
the bay, floating across waters alive
with flickering rays. The night air whispers

of ancient sand castles and the gleam
of small stars stirring the romance of darkness.
It clings faithfully to the rise and fall

of waves washing in, swinging to
the rhythm of a sea singing love songs.
Fog holds lights in soft hands, clasps love

in tender touches, grasps hope in strong
fingers as it rolls in. Reality
blurs, an impressionist painting

lying just under the murky paint of fog.
Fog holds light in soft hands, embraces

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Remembering Lena Horne

When she began her ballad,
an invisible torch melted her words,
slurring sex into sultry sounds.

The intimacy in her deep eyes
went straight to every man there.
Even women found themselves
limp with lust lingering on lips.

As she sang each sensual sound,
Her mouth formed words like a kiss.
Men sweated as they dreamed of
taking songs into the caverns
of their body, stalagmites forming
from music and imagination.
Their eyes closed. The dream grew.

Tones caressed shamelessly. Words went
from tongues exploring mouths of listeners,
a flagrant intimacy growing from song.

[...] Read more

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