photo credit: dlemieux via photopin (license)

Speaking of my crimes, my black designs
That went astray. My steps in wicked ways;
When it is just lies to talk of love
Such a pretty word for want and lust.

When all along I knew I never had the words
For speaking of the truth, and my eyes just mould
Darkness into a perversion of the light.

And my defence?
My senses were overwhelmed by the reality of you.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

Seeing the Future

photo credit: Schoon17 Culbin Sands 3 via photopin (license)

Glittering shoreline
Early morning,
Reflections of silence
Mirrored in the mud.
Runnels and ripples
Curving like lifelines
Across the sand.
The natives read them
As if they’re fortune-telling,
Before with a ruffle of feathers
Coming in to land.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.