Amber Glow
Amber Glow
Red and yellow painted leaves
hang idly within the trees
They break and sail along the breeze
As fires of Autumn's time
They dance and surf upon the ground
Overlap each other with ruffling sound
A setting I am glad I found
As fires of Autumn's time
Like fires of the Autumn season
they leap and dance without a reason
A factor of Autumns many seasons
As fires of Autumn's time'
The grey clouds break, the sun appears
The dancing leaves appear to sere
These flames its kept for many years
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poem by Wesley Mincin
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Dancing to the Harp of Passion
Dancing to the Harp of Passion
Let the fire silently burn within,
our hearts as we dance tonight.
Let us dance from the peak of dawn,
to beginning of twilight.
Soak in this solitude-just you and me,
as we dance to the Harp of Passion.
A silent sound to others but us:
a song in melodic fashion.
Cast our shadows on the wall,
for they shall never age.
Remember this moment for all your life,
until our final days.
Dance through the fall of night,
and the rise of the moon.
The stars as our audience,
as well as the lune.
Dance is the art of movement.
Through it, love moves.
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poem by Wesley Mincin
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The Winter Pendant
The Winter Pendant
Silver lining that shines in light,
(an attribute to her delight)
which rims a figure of the night,
this alluring Winter Pendant.
Forged with essence of the stars,
delivered by the war-god Mars.
It mirrors distant, dying pulsars,
this mysterious Winter Pendant.
Mars delivers this before,
the moon who, quite frankly, adores,
this change within the god of war,
by this elegant Winter Pendant.
But she is still only a mortal.
She can't traverse beyond the portal,
while he can since he is immortal.
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poem by Wesley Mincin
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Xerina's House
An overgrowth of vines encase this house of ancient stone
Behind sealed doors are oddities and secrets still unknown
Calamity befell the owners delving into knowledge veiled
Death approached them as their efforts deterring the horror failed
Enveloped by dark powers those who come became the paladins
Force to guard the house forever as immortal, wicked guardians
Gifts are sent to the old house to keep the spirits at bay
Homage out of fear of death; Merciless are they
Innocence is not identified by those who run the house
Just like the owners, all are taken, even the garden mouse
Keep away from Xerina’s singing, leading you down the misty roads
Life is much too precious to encounter this hell spawn foe
Malice tightly holds the house, keeping those who seek to clean,
Necromancers, Phantoms, Demons who come to us in dreams
Olive paint is cracking, peeling, falling off the house’s door
Paladins peek through windows at us, reciting long forgotten lore
Quiet, listen as they speak and tip you warnings of your fate:
“Run away from this dark land before the ageing day grows late.”
“Silence falls once sky runs red. Bridge cannot be crossed when black.”
“Timber pulls thee to the house. Spirit shall erode and crack.”
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poem by Wesley Mincin
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