Castle ~of~ Spirits... Poem by Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr

___________ I ____________
___ A p p a r i t i o n s ~ A x i s ___

Th' nape of my neck, unexpectedly teased
by th' stray draft of a slow wafting breeze,
like curls of stringed cobweb, dangling, clinging
to th' hairs of my scruff, as i'm flinchind and reeling
'neath th' cracks of a mite festered ceiling.

I stop to dust off th' silk from my neck,
but nothing is ther', not a soft-stringed spec
I hear th' wind whistle revealing its ruse,
enveloping th' walls like a tightly pulled noose,
claustrophobically surfing for anywheres exodus
trap doors, stained glass... fresh air... my impetus.


____________ II ____________
____ A n c i e n t ~ A m b i e n c e____

Ahhh, th' scent of mahogany, rosewood and pine,
ancient castles, like capturing scents of fine wine
by echo an' solitude, while you an' me-
share a carafe of impulse an' sherry.

An' I wonder if th' great King of Israel
would imbibe in our spirits from chalice tip
if we sojourned back by 'celestial'
to 580bc.....praise *Apries an' *Psamtik;
steal th' keys to their Castle at Babylon,
woo th' tranquil flux of its amorous pond.

______________ III _______________
_________ A r d o r s ~ A r o m a________

You say, th' wine's made you warm inside
you beckon me closer....my nod to oblige
and seek oasis between your sweet breasts,
on southern course 'pon yo'r request...
This castle, now my throne it be -
my sensual cup... my yen, my seed.

I've never tasted wine so sweet
a refreshing pour, my palate speaks,
enticing, exciting, disarming me....
while spirits dance o'er the Castle breeze.


Pronunciation-Phoenetic
*(a-preeze)
*(som-tik)






©Frank J. Ryan, Jr./ FjR
2013 All rights Reserved