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Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Taken: By Pete Marshall


Taken
by pete marshall

Dolores smiled and held my hand,
her touch was soft upon my skin,
her lips were full upon my nape,
her thighs were warm and welcoming.

I felt a breath that chilled my skin
then crept along each vertebrae.
I closed my eyes and saw the joy
of devils dancing on my grave.

As willows hung above the stream
the winds would blow and gently sway,
the cry of lambs within the fields
as wolves would circle in the fray.

The pulse that beat within my mind
that flowed on through my poisoned veins,
the joy's I felt within your arms
upon your bed where dreams are made.

*********************

Today I bring you a new Darkened Tale, an offering for One Shot Wednesday, part of One Stop Poetry.

If you like this and would like to read more of Dolores and the Darkened Tales visit, The Darkened Tales Collection


Not often I get to brag but have you seen this interview? The River Paper started last week and featured me...nice to get a mention once in a while, go to the following link, The River Paper

Cant believe I have written two poems this week! This is now my third week of work and its strange coming to terms with the change. The good news is I am writing  & now hopefully I will also start reading more again.

image creative commons http://www.flickr.com/photos/amanky/



26 comments:

Unknown Mami said...

With a name like Dolores, you should have known.

repressedsoul said...

Thanks ever so much for supporting us in our endeavour Pete, it was a pleasure interviewing you and I'm hoping you'll submit for us again! Dolores, her of the red lips...hot stuff :)

Claudia said...

seductive, tempting and dangerous..

Claudia said...

and great you write again pete...hey and you english guys are playing good soccer as well..smiles

lori said...

Tis dark indeed. Is he happy in the end? It seems he might be? Maybe joy in misery...

Marian said...

delicious!

dustus said...

Definitely belongs as one of your darker tales. Dolores sounds addictive—one the ruins a life. Great poetry Pete. Cheers

janice said...

yummy...

Brian Miller said...

oh for the night it may be sweep but the wind blows the rope slung over that tree limb where bites your neck...

Anthony Desmond said...

well, that Dolores is dangerously sexy... glad you're writing again Mr. Marshall :)

Myrna R. said...

Nice to visit you again and glad you're writing again.

Dolores sounds dangerous indeed. Creepy sensuality. Still, what a nice read.

Dulce said...

Oh Dolores..
A Spanish name and passion and what it might give...
Greater Peter you are

booguloo said...

Leaves me with thoughts swirling, but it did remind me of a girl named Baabara. Nice write.

Pat Hatt said...

Really brings back thoughts past
As your words are quite vast
Enjoye the one shot
That today you brought

Mary Anne said...

I loved "devils dancing on my grave". You have a way of bringing poetry to life! :)

C Rose said...

This is screaming with perfect sensuality, the kind that crawls up your neck instead of punching you in the face...that may only make sense to me ;) A great write ~ Rose

James Rainsford said...

A deliciously sensual and passionate poem. It's skilfully constructed and brilliantly rhymed. Great job!

velvetinapurrs said...

A dark sensuous delight! trapped in her web....

bumfuzzled said...

I echo both marian and rose, friend pete. great job both dark and subtly dirty :) loved it. absolutely loved it :) but then I would. . . lol

Monty

Kerry O'Connor said...

This is darkly erotic and a sensuous delight. I thought the third stanza was a brilliant addition to the tale of seduction.

Beachanny said...

Dolores, so sorrowful, so sexy here. I always thought the dangerous woman would be named Sylvia or perhaps Cynthia. Those are dark centered names for me. But to sleep in her arms and feel the grave wrap, see the sheep, hear the wolf howl--chilling indeed! Well done Pete.
Gay

hedgewitch said...

Why write free verse when you can get everything you need in these measured, vivid, dirgelike rhymes, so suggestive of a gregorian chant in a dark nave, or perhaps, a Black Mass. Quite the atmosphere in this one.

Victoria said...

You have such an ability to write form poetry that just slips on the tongue. Oxymoron alert: brilliant darkness.

Dasuntoucha said...

...I felt a breath that chilled my skin
then crept along each vertebrae.
I closed my eyes and saw the joy
of devils dancing on my grave
...

...the joy of devils dancing on my grave...i like that line...your words conjure quite an image.

Sheila Moore said...

Congrats on the new job. Stellar poem as always.

haikulovesongs said...

definitely dangerous! congratulations on OSP's anniversary!