how we laid on the ancient stones

 Hello Freckles, Hello Readers,

Thanks for your support by being here and reading the blog, buying the books...

Here I gave you a poem today...

I had some work this morning, I need to repair the door of my son's room.

😘

Oh women the times stolen by a theft

Full Moon over the aging song

That I sing for your burning gift

Abandoned and stepped on, you let me dying

words carried the curse of  my anger like a raft 

Slowly suffered as I watched you, lying

My Moon never set on your freckled chest

no viable words there is to blame on your yearning

the escape you stabbed to my back was only for a thrift

don't you ever forget how we laid on the ancient stones and made loving 

my sweat lady of white pale skin we were different kin back than the time beyond thought

in a realm I craft 

for our being

            King H. Ironson

(Photograph: Nicolas Raymond & Brin Kennedy Weins – 2013 -Ancient Poulnabrone Portal Tomb with a vibrant cloudy sky. Located in The Burren, County Clare, Ireland. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license. Link of the source document is given on the picture.)