When Love Was Fair
Fair in love… Such sweet surprise, what you in mind derive from my subtle glance, my raw romance, this feeling
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Author: Tony DeLorger
The Child In-Between
The child between two worlds, feels connected to both, yet incomplete the street with two sides, is walked in the
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The Cloak of Indifference
Indifference marks a soul disconnected, and life by some degree limited in scope, and while we may choose our paths,
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In Time…the Cleansing of Our Needs
Cleansing… The wind blows as if to cleanse the land, and time does recuse itself, its beat somehow in remand,
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To Love Thyself…an Epiphany
Transparency is a courageous state of being, for we reveal our darkness and light, our doubts and dreams for all
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Whatever Moves the Heart
Whatever moves the heart is one step closer to open, like the petals of a bloom unfurl, and life in
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Sun’s Bequest
The Bequest… And the sun donned a hat, sunglasses just so, and winter crept in like a prowling cat, slinking
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To Bear the Plight of Growth
Bear the weight…. What falls from heaven into the realm of men, is tainted by the shadows there, for what
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The Path of In-Between
I tread the path of in between, impaled by the truths I in stead have gleaned, and see what stirs
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Galleons…dared to challenge the Horn
Galleons rip through surging waves, tempest tips like frosting edge the grey, and bows sharpened, cut through the swell. Figureheads
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Woodland Life…the cycles of day and night
Rarely do I use a four line stanza and A,A,B,B rhyming scheme, but sometimes it suits my purpose, and as
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The Dressing Down…a Cathartic Event
Thirty years has transpired since first I met you, and even then the pain you carried was palpable. I’ve watched
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Upon the Beds of Lesser Men
Upon the beds of lesser men, the stain of use and measure tend to be dismissed, a kiss no deeper
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The Tongue
An acid tongue… Her sour green expectancy, writhes in acrid struggle, and maligned in fate, her will abates, momentary, her
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Etched in Mind, My First Love
Etched in mind those moments that seal memories, preserve them whole and resound with a perpetual knell of those defining
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On a Wire…swaying
Twenty five pigeons, sitting on a wire, plump feathered balls, swaying, tails dipping in contiguous balance, like erratic oars, paddling
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Bent…what better description
Bent… What heed do I pay, to the gormless mutterings of ego bent opportunists, when guile is spread like honey,
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Life Hiatus, Rush
Hiatus from the storm… Woven into the rhythm, the explicit, hip writhing sway, the rise and fall of hearts, arts,
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Watching the Cycles, the Never-Ending Lives Reborn
So hard to watch, the folly and sway of thoughts that lead a soul to finite ends, the pain of
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Twas in the Heath
Twas in the heath, the dreary scrub atop an escarpment breach, where two lovers lie, entwined their souls and bodies
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Mabel…her shallow connection
She walks with one foot dragging, twisted, her aged back a little hunched, to the left, a soulful face but
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The Banyan Tree…in life’s finite calling
The indifferent tree stood ageless by the currents of brown river undulations, surging from mountains caress to the mud plateau
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