Broken Cupid

Feral eyes glittering

claws sharp and deadly

she stalks through the night.

Scavenger of broken dreams

looting and thieving what she wants,

lust and loss her domain.

Struggles all around her

ignored for blood thirst.

A revenge that sings to her soul,

calling to her night and day

pulling her forward into the game.

A game that has been in play for eons.

Poised and coiled deadly beauty

a serpent ready to strike.

She takes aim with fatal precision

and boldly strikes at your heart.

Her weapon of choice?

A barbed arrow.

Coated with not love and adoration

but bitterness and strife.

Her desire not to pleasure

but to destroy

for all the harm done to her.

Centuries have passed

and still she rides,

seeking, forever searching.

A broken cupid who has lost her reason,

her life,

and finally her sanity.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

October 21/17

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Regrets

As I lay naked before you

I sense your reverence

in the whispering touch

of your fingers upon my skin.

Your eyes capture mine

not letting me look away

your mouth covers mine

leaving me breathless.

I try so hard to deny

the emotions I feel.

You banter and pull,

pushing down the walls I built

to protect my heart.

Tears well as I stare up at your face,

the connection so strong-

and I realize

no matter how hard I try

you have penetrated my mind,

my heart, my body and my soul.

I am yours today, tomorrow and always.

My love in your care

please do not make me regret.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 20/17

Missed Chances

Pleasure fragranced with vanilla kisses

sun touched dappled skin.

Two figures wrapped in summer’s embrace

beneath a waxing moon;

gentle touches

and whispered promises.

Castles spun from sugared dreams

dances played across crystal floors

nestled within arms of steel

and hearts found forever more.

Pink hued romance

of a fairy tale once told.

Handsome Kings and

winsome Queens,

play with nuance

a subtle game of hearts

and thrones.

Love can be found 

in niches not seen

but stolen kisses

and hidden misses

a love story make.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 18/17

Fragile Chrysalid

I am caught

between hopeful dreams

and bruising reality.

I weave a web of gossamer

light and fragile

delight and wonder

as I breath deeply of love.

I fall beneath the riptide

my breath sucked from my lungs

my eyes widening in desperation

as I lose the hope I held close.

This love

will it be my heaven or my hell?

Will finding the pieces of my heart again

and handing them to you;

be a comfort

or a cold regret?

My heart.

Fragile chrysalid

bound by your tender words.

Do not undo

the braided strands

for I cannot endure

not without you as my light.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 17/17

To love again

Some days,

I can hear

the soundless whispers of my heart.

A sweet caress,

a gentle understanding

of what I see before me.

Arms around

tightening in protection.

My lion, 

my bear,

my knight in shining armour.

You saw a woman,

broken and beaten

stumbling along the crooked path.

Reaching out ,

you strove to uncover

the love and happiness

that lay shrouded 

beneath the fear and distrust.

Beneath these star lit skies

I dance and whirl

secure in the knowledge

that love 

and you

have found a home again within me.

Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 12/17

I am a bunny

***Image via Cartoon Network found on Internet.

I am a bunny

hear me roar.

What?

You say that I cannot roar?

That I am too tiny and too cute?

Do you not see the fierceness

with which I protect my heart?

Do you not see

that I am the provider of my family?

I am a bunny

see me soar.

Why?

Why do you say I cannot soar?

That I am meant to stay rooted to the ground?

Do you not see the dreams

that I create within this harsh world?

Do you not understand the hope

that I watch each day unfurl with?

I am a bunny

tiny and cute

fierce and determined

ready to embrace

the differences that life will share.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 9/17

Days of Yore

In days of yore,

I would find myself at the crossroad

where the devil dances.

Skeletal tree limbs braced by ashen sky,

a gibbet swaying on creaking rope,

filled with the broken pieces

of the thief in chains.

My shattered crown

threaded together with brambles

entwined in gnarled locks of gold

held in place speared through my flesh.

I search for the path that will lead me

back to the sanity,

the truth

that once sheltered me.

My hands blooded as I hold my heart

torn from my breast

and cast aside,

a treat for any passing wolf.

My rage grows knowing no bounds.

No longer am I the sweet princess

but the bitter Queen scorned.

In days of yore,

you would have cast me unto the wilds

letting fate and nature

sway your course.

A kinder,

fairer,

more humane demise

to what was once a love

so deep and true.

In days of yore

I could find another love

another man to hold me.

In days of yore

I could continue the dance

of life and love.

In days of yore……..

I would not feel my heart ripped apart

by the beast that shares your tongue.

©Jay-lyn Doerksen

Oct. 7/17