Friday, October 10, 2008

a sad taste

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There is a sad taste on lips that crust with age.
Words now carry baggage I would not uncage on those
who were not part of the conspiracy that weighed them with rage.
Heavy lays the thoughts, caught in hot moments, frozen
to the rose in the hands of a lover, filled with awe
for the moment of an unique touch, passions chosen.
But we are creatures of light and dark and flickering will,
sharing not the kill of our most sacred moments, when that
is what those moments were created, and wait for, still.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

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    Explaining the Tags

    You will note, gentle reader, that all works under this blog now display "tags" to help classify and assign the works for your review and enjoyment.

    These largely fall into 4 categories:

    Year of writing, e.g. "1999"
    Book published in, e.g. "from an unexpected quarter"
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    Genre, e.g. "erotica"

    We are still in the process of cleaning up the tags, so please bear with us. Yes, some muses are classified under more than one tag, some poems appear in more than one book, or not yet in any volume, and some years are...hazy.
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