Archive for the ‘Widow’ Category


Beloved Apostle


Mary, Mary
you were anything but weak
Mary, Mary
you were strong
yet, you cried at his feet.
Behind the tears
lives the truth we never speak
behind the love
lives the beauty of his deeds.


Mary, Mary
beloved by the man
Mary, Mary
the only one to understand.
Mary, Mary
you took a secret to your grave,
After the passion
a life we never seek
behind the love
was there a child of his seed?


Mary, Mary
where did you go?
Mary, Mary
why was your story never told?
You knew his nature
loved him from the start
You knew the truth
you saw the beauty of his heart.
Between the lines
lives the part they overlooked
Beyond your love
lives the message of the book.


(c} Susan Morgan Bosler
July 10, 2012

All Rights Reserved.


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Angel of Greif

Angel of Greif (Photo credit: ZTW1)

Ange de la mort

Tu m’aime?


Death, my jealous lover

How did I miss

Your amorous intentions

Everyone, lovers and friends

Have quietly been dispatched by you

Leaving me waiting

Alone with unspeakable desire

To know you better at last.

How far must you travel each day

It’s no wonder, that you seem humorless.

Yet, what else can this be

But a practical joke

You have been playing on me?


How shall we meet?

When the clock strikes two

In the witching hour

As souls teeter on the brink

Between the setting and the rising suns

How you keep me waiting

Dressed here, in my black costumes

Which you have forced me to wear

Too many times.


Strange, how I feel calm

By your advances


Are you cold or warm to the touch?

Will you tap my shoulder, gingerly?

Or claim me with eagerness

As you lift me up with your stalwart arms

Embracing me with your desire.

Shall you call my name or whisper it

As I lay sleeping and lost in dreams?

Will I feel your lips upon mine

As the breath leaves my body?


There comes a moment in life

When one must resolve

Her relationship with you.

What shall we call this?

A foregone conclusion

An entanglement

A flirtation

A feud

A war

An engagement

That shall not be broken?

Death, Death

What am I to you?

Why do you haunt my life?

Please, I ask of you,

Be tardy in your arrival

Do keep me waiting

For I have so much more to do.


(Angel of Death – Do you love me?)

(c)Susan Morgan Bosler, June 24, 2012  All Rights Reserved.

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Story Book Love



A man wants what he cannot have
a woman wants what she needs
uncommonly do the two entwine
rarely do the two ever meet.
On sunny days such as this
I think of you and me
of long drives and walks at the beach
of sentimental speeches and ribald pejorative baiting
holding hands until numb
of sleeping late with you beside.
The tension of our bodies twisting
the relaxation of a good night kiss
the breath upon my neck
the arms around my waist.
that first sight, that last time
your arrival, your departure
both etched deeply into my memory –
hold a flower in your hand so I will know you,
held a flower in my hand when I said goodbye
how time plays tricks on me
were they red roses, each time?
I am not a man, I had you completely
I am a woman, I want what I need
in the end, we did live happily ever after
after every good day’s happy ending.

©Susan Morgan Bosler,  2011

All Right Reserved

This is part of an upcoming project – hush hush

Please recommend this blog to others – Thank you always dear readers.


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Upon the window sill

a faded, hand painted jar rests

it held flowers

freshly cut by you

given to me

they were free expressions

of the earnest musings of your heart

presented to me

with high regard

sometimes in haste

usually with a peck on the lips

a smile

a wrinkle of the nose

humble nod in return

in all innocence of giving love

in all surety of love returned

the jar stands empty at its post

yet it’s filled with memories,

if the jar were to be upturn

they would come pouring out.

©Susan Morgan Bosler,  2011

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