Salutations, my dear digital friends!

So many times when I write poetry, it is a spontaneous act. Mind clears. Words flow.

The Muses are in control, and I surrender to the moment. The emotion.

And poetry is made.

This week’s new poem surprised me when their enchantment dissipated.

It is so romantic and sexy. Not my normal.

So, I am left wondering if my regular Muses were perhaps on holiday in some gray, sad place.

And this new, naughty, alternate Muse thought they might spice things up a bit. Enjoy.

As always, please let me know your thoughts, feelings, and reactions to the poem in the ‘Leave a Reply’ comment section at the bottom of this page.

-PS Conway ☘️ ☘️ ☘️

☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️


come to me, love, in the sleek of the night

where anticipation seeks sweet release

dew gathers on rose petals at the gate

and the nightingale knows her song inures  

the breeze is firm and thick with hyacinth

hard memories swell of hands deep in dirt

of a thirst that we cannot slake with one sip

fingers trace my lips; all i crave is you  

come to me, love, soft moonlight awaits

the caress of your skin in her cold embrace

her pale allure draws breaths – hallowed and slow

‘neath night’s lurid glow, we surrender our souls


  1. That is WICKED … I’m speechless, but I love it nevertheless.
    Naughty step for that muse 😂
    Keep it up PS.
    🙏 🍀🍀🍀

    1. Sandie! What can I say about this loaner Muse!? Hahaha. She definitely had a spicy way with words, eh? Cheers, my friend. 💙🙏🏻🌹🔥✨✨✨

      1. I love your use of enjambement to create a double meaning with every new verse. Very clever Pat! Ladies, watch out for that hyacinth hard!

      2. My wife thinks I’m a clever little nerd for labeling poems like this one: FWLD… fun with literary devices. 😂.Your last comment? Effing brilliant!! Thanks so much, my friend. 🙏🏻💙🔥🌹✨

  2. In the November-of my soul- I doth easily recall the wonderment of lost in expectation of knew not then- but enlightenment doth recall splendors-that lay before my soul again

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