Pretty lady with angel wings on her back.
Pretty lady with angel wings on her back. My pretty lady friend with tattoos on her back and legs. She asked me. Do you like my tattoos? I smiled and I told her.… Continue reading
Tag Archive: life
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She told me by the Lake St. Clair. Love never did love me.
1- A Summer Day…The birds were singing near me.Lake St. Clair was alive and dancing for the children.The sun-kissed my face and I told the Goddess of the lake.Thank you for the perfect… Continue reading
You are my muse dear Katie.
You are my muse dear Katie. You are love and I’m no-one. You came to me with haunting words awakening the want of love, dance and song. Your gentle voice awoke my dying… Continue reading
A Spring Day. We need.
(April is poetry month. Mew poetry number twenty-eight.) A Spring Day. We need. 1- Careless words, careless thoughts. They can make us blind to the truth. 2- Like this, she told me. Take… Continue reading
A naked woman.
A naked woman A Poem by Coyote Poetry A naked woman (A wise artist once said. To see a nude woman is more wonderful then 1000 beautiful paintings… Continue reading
We shall meet near where the Clinton River reaches the Lake St. Clair.
We will meet where the Clinton River reaches the Lake St. Clair. (April is poetry month and this is new poetry twenty-five.) I told you when we were just babies in heart. Where… Continue reading
Bad behavior. And a gorgeous Amanda Shires song.
Bad behavior.. Loveliest lady in Port Austin. She waited for no-one on the long pier into Lake Huron. I adored her auburn hair and her wild hazel eyes. She would find me sitting… Continue reading
Dear April.
Dear April. The April sun is in my eyes and I ain’t blue no-more. My tears have stopped and the open wound is bleeding less. I am bleeding Scottish whiskey, wandering into dead… Continue reading
The haunting echoes and dangerous dreams. And an amazing song.
The haunting echoes and the dangerous dreams. (April is poetry month. New poetry number twenty-two.) 1- I told the morning, yesterday is gone and today is here. I go to my garden and… Continue reading
We are just flesh and bones.
(We are just bones/flesh and blood waiting to be turn to dust.A Poem by Coyote PoetryWhy do we live? I believe a wise person lived celebrating every new born day.) We are just… Continue reading