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Sunday, 8 June 2014

Peddler of the Moon

can't believe I fell for it 
Or for you for that matter
I mean, how blind was I not to see
What was I expecting from an encounter online
Naive or what; stupid and reckless also
How did I know who was actually sat on the other side of the screen
Why on earth did I let my guard down
Did I actually delude myself that you were interested in me
I may as well have had desperate or lost tattooed across my profile
I swear, I felt your words reach through the screen and shake my soul
Or was that your line....oh I forget now; it matters not
Your flattery and banter became more desired, more needed
Your attention, the highlight of my overshadowed reality
Your poems, first responses to my own, came thick and fast
Each one filled with more undertones of love and innuendos
Passion flowed through your words cascading over my body and soul
You had become my muse and I yours
Our conversations spun golden in verse
You became my first and last thought ......I fevered for you
You confessed to feeling it too; your term was "kindred souls"
A connection which, you said, you'd never known the like
I fell deeper, insatiably, with sheer abandonment of sense
My inhibitions and pride melted more with every lingering word, sent by you
Without warning, your words grew sparse
I could see your attention drifting elsewhere
The tides had turned; waves of doubt crashed down and I was left marooned 
Drowning in quick sand of imagined, bitter-sweet dreamed-up love
Your words, once penned for me, scribed now a different tune to ring in another's ear
The empty message box became a deafening void of echoes of your once words
My bubble burst; my sense restored, even in the twilight, all was clear
What a romantic fool I'd been to believe 
A poet, armed with a merchant's patter, enough to defy the gods 
Words slipping off your silvered fingers; pages and pages of fabricated fiction 
I should have known there was no rhyme, in truth, no reason
Anyway; I remain unscathed as, after all, it was never even real
No damage actually done; no tryst, as such, had even occurred
So I slipped away, unnoticed, leaving you to continue to peddle the moon
To some other lonely dreamer or, should I say, another word-blinded poetic fool!

© Debbie Razey 2014


Greed (haiku)

like locusts we feed
on life's abundance with greed
- others go without

Debbie Razey 2014