She gazes out over the vast expanse of ocean,
Longing for her quiescent, brave love with soulful devotion

Loves everlasting candle with immortal flame,
Living, breathing, only to eternally whisper her true loves’ name

Burning in her heart sempiternal,
Through eyes sacred emotions shone sentimental

As her clinquant tears cascade free-fall,
She prays to God a wish with her all

For his safe return to her loving embrace,
A need no more to dream, to hold his precious face

Sleet shushes me this winter eve
and bounces off my old felt hat
as chill wind sneaks up my coat sleeves
stealthy as a stalking cat

With shoulders hunched I walk along
through white which barely dusts the ground
toward cows lowing their same sad song
beyond the barn toward which I'm bound

They spy me and come at a trot
as they do 'most every day
toward their familiar feeding lot
where I fill their racks with hay

Impressionable young women
encouraged to enter a trade
that oft belittles and degrades
detrimental to mental health
not worth the short-term wealth
people have become inured
forget the pain often endured
reality becomes obscured
to enter a life of vice
women can feel they have no choice
no other way they recognise
fed by their dealers lies
I always picture it seedy
making a living from the needy
pimps are just plain greedy
big men, in fact, weedy
I’m told its consensual

Report Poem

First Evening (Première Soirée)
by Arthur Rimbaud

Her clothes were almost off;
Outside, a curious tree
Beat a branch at the window
To see what it could see.

Perched on my enormous easy chair,
Half nude, she clasped her hands.
Her feet trembled on the floor,
As soft as they could be.

I watched as a ray of pale light,
Trapped in the tree outside,
Danced from her mouth
To her breast, like a fly on a flower.