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shelf 3

I, Empress Enigma Lady Gray
Immortal Poet Lady Gray
To me Holly White Valliant
(Poem being recovered)
Dancer in the Wind Claudia Anne Krizay

I, Empress Enigma by Lady Gray

Bewitching blossoms beseech the Bellwether in the blissful bourgeois.
Broach, be brusque for the begrime brigands seek billet, babble not, banter or barter the battalion.
I, beckon buoyant benevolent brethren.

Flamboyant nay not falter but fancy in fallacy, feeding fidelity into fellowship.
Fare thee well in fearless fashion, fathom freedom.
I, of a fiendish façade, whom frighten and frolic in fixation furthermore.

Cited is the creed of thy covenant, counseled and clandestine.
Clemency of cognizance, cede thy caste.
I, convey cryptic captivating conquests to the chasm.

Mischief and mirth misrepresent a melee in monomania mutiny.
Menagerie of martyrs, meander in misfortunes.
I, mock the moderator in morbid and murky marrow.

Pacify pain, parlay passion, a plea as I plague thee.
Here lies the preamble of a prophetic prodigious partisan.
I, probe the prosaic and pummel the predominant whom are prejudice and precarious.

Shelter spirits, shield the Sacred Sage at storms savage strength.
Siege the skeptics, slaughter steadfast in sightless slumber.
I, sovereign sorcery in somatic stigmas, stipulating under subterfuge.

I, empower equity envision exodus for the emissaries as they encumber, emancipate and endure.
For I, eloquent and eccentric, enslave and engrave thee eyes of thy ecclesiastical enemy.
I, Empress Enigma ensue in endless echoes.

Immortal Poet by Lady Gray

Tales of mayhem bewitch these creative eccentric beings.
Entwined tales unfold and some unimagined sooth to say of life.
Casting characters out of desolate imagery and solace.
A perilous journey, a destined venture awaits, divinity becomes strife.

The subconscious can say and do many a thing, where upon . . .
Hence forth a waning moon.
What may seem so eventful soon set forth-dangerous liaisons.

Their lives may not seem so inviting in comparison to the masters of the Portal.
The pain simmers, engulfing, digesting the mirrored mental immortal.

A moonlight sonata chimes across the piano keys, of where, oh when.
Why, what more could there be in their somber sensory faculty but the whispers of Zen.

Absinthe relinquishes their spoken word.
Opium and Laudanum seeks the destination of their thoughts.
The tears of the vagrant heart cry out and so wish to be heard.
Truly, it is their darkest unbound fear to be sought.

Doth the way, of this haunting creature, this vivacious poet piety.
Gentlemanly mannered, distinguished and literally accepted by an underground society.

Their refuge lies within the ink drops of a Raven's quill.
And here is where intelligent minds consummate the hinder most creeping chill.
Once the poets heart lies within its chamber, settled silently still;
The beating commences when they embody and embrace, perishing of their own will.

Dancer in the Wind Claudia Anne Krizay

Fragile branches and

Delicate yellow budding blossoms,

Petals cascading copiously,

Always tearful,

Like falling rain,

At times, a deluge…

She fears a raging storm on a summer's night.

On a spring day you shall

Meet her, as she gently sways

In a zephyr breeze,

Each and every branch, intertwining

Reaching out for solace and

Grasping for any chance at love.

All of the warmth she carries in her

Heart of silver

Melts the snow that covers the ground

She becomes a stark barren tree- though strong,

Bleak against the sky of Prussian blue

Mesmerized by nature's wiles,

She remains scarred for life.

If I could only pick one branch,

I would fondle it lovingly, and would

Embrace it as if it were some innocent child, and

Kiss its supple petals,

Only to comfort her, as I whisk away the dewdrops which

Fell from heaven and settled upon her leaves in the very early morning.

Perhaps if one is quiet, one may find this tree

Dancing gracefully in an early spring's draft

As she reaches out with her fragile branches, and

Upward towards the sky,

Only to capture a glimmer of warmth from the sun

That would dry her tears in less than an instant,

So that she may become strong enough to

Become the ruler of the forest

Never fearing a summer's storm,

Neither a winter's blizzard would cause her to fall, for

She would have become the most striking tree in all of the woods.

She would welcome every season with utmost joy,

Swaying in the wind but never falling.

Some day she would grow taller than the evergreens,

Queen of the backwoods, giving shade to the deer and any passers by, and

Generously offering her branches as a place for robins to nest.

Someday you may become stronger as did this tree,

Once lost and fearful, but now strong enough to nurture the children of this world,

Crying only tears of happiness, sought by others for guidance or

Just for a little love so pure and simple,

Reaching out with open arms having so much to give,

To catch a sunbeam in your hands

To dry the tears of everyone who follows you

To never fall, not even against the most powerful winter's squall,

Contrasting so beautifully against that sky of Prussian blue

Mesmerized by nature's wiles,

Those scars could possibly disappear.

Catch in your cupped hands every raindrop and every dewdrop that falls, for

There is no shame in crying, as

Tears have been known to cleanse and strengthen the soul, and

As every season comes and goes, as does that special tree,

You shall stand steadfast against any storm, regardless of the season,