In fields of love…

The light of morn spills softly on your face,
Like golden sleeves that sparkle warm and bright.
Such tiny spheres illuminate with grace
And I am moved to kiss your skin like night
Alight with stars, your freckles in daylight;
Each mark a kiss, endowed with love from high.
For as with me, you cause the sun to sigh.
Within the grass I see you long; reclined.
Your breathing soft; as heart beats slow to rest,
A sheepish smile; your cheeky mood inclined
To pull me close and press me to your chest,
Caresses soft, my heart pounds in my breast.
Wild flowers sweet, upon the scented breeze,
As fingers swirl – surrendered to your tease.
Long lashes fall, as butterflies take flight,
Loose buttons hold, though fingers feel their way
Exploring treasures hidden from plain sight,
Slow rhythmed moves, cause rounded hips to sway
And breathless sighs sing sweetly in the day.
Your gentle heart did overcome mine, shy,
In fields of love, beneath the sunlit sky.
©Elusive Me 

Child of Mine

I wondered if those starry eyes I saw
Were happiness or tears reflecting hope;
‘Tis strange, I’d never seen this child before,
Her eyes, her face; emotions fail to cope
With this, this gorgeous child with ample scope
To prove her love, but love is not returned
By one who should know better; love is spurned.
Her eyes, they search the answer to her why
And anger strikes, within my heart to grow;
Her wanting, searching heart, that bitter sigh
Of love discarded, tears begin to flow
Down freckled cheeks, their hurt pounds blow by blow,
This little child defeated, can she rise
Above the pain I see through teary eyes.
Without an answer coming, lost to he
Who stands before this treasure, hair of gold
And sorrowed eyes of blue that turn to me
Acknowledging my presence, eyes that hold
My heart and knowing without being told.
I smile, she smiles, perhaps our hearts align,
To heal her pain, I wish this child was mine.
Ferrick Gray
© 2015

Little Boy

 On bended knee, though battle-marred, looks down –
 Upon the one he swore till death defend.
 His blood-stained hands have failed him and the frown
 Of Why? Confusion o’r his tiny friend,
 Whose fading heart; this dirge to drum. His end
Has come, but unexpected – ill prepared
For what had lain ahead. Their peril shared.

 For many years, the guardian had fought
 In ev’ry battle, kept the boy behind
 And always thought his own life was but naught,
 The boy was more important than his kind –
 He thought him safe. His present state of mind
Now questions every move he made for fear
Of losing him. Reality is here.

 The blood-soaked earth of mem’ry’s battle field,
 Where bravèry once sought the holy grail,
 Emblazoned words, his breast-plate ‘Never Yield’
 Together, they would conquer and assail,
 Protected by the strength of wrought chain mail.
The guardian, before the boy would stride,
And from his eyes, the slaughter he would hide.

 This day, however, Future made its stand –
 The boy would run to show that he could too,
 Protect himself from harm, but Fate’s cruel hand
 Dropped down – the signal. Then the arrows flew …
 And pierced the boy; he fell as Fate withdrew.
With helpless eyes, afraid, looks up. He cries.
His heartbeat slows – It stops … little boy dies.

 From bended knee he rises, draws his sword,
 Removes his breast-plate; thoughts of ‘Never Yield’
 Meant nothing any more. This noble lord
 Had failed, and life no more to him appealed
 He too would die upon this bloodied field.
He looks to heaven – Curse the tears that start –
And falls. His sword has pierced his gallant heart.
Ferrick Gray
© 2016