Posts Tagged ‘Folklore’



In this meadow of cool, long wild grasses

With bright spring flowers bursting with color

The sweet smells of young nature

The soft breeze that ripples past the curled locks of my hair

Let’s pretend that you’re the god of love

While I am the common girl

 Who has captured your heart completely unaware.

Let us drink sweet wine during the dark night hours

 Before sharing that one, first kiss that will last a lifetime –

I promise you, I will reluctantly keep my eyes closed

As you promise to stay with me each night –

I will not peek,

Least the spell be broken and you flee from me

Taking all that is yours with you,

Leaving me alone and broken hearted.


(c) Susan Morgan Bosler

August 21, 2012, All rights reserved.  



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Doing Time With Unicorns


Time to step back from this table

Been bending crayons against these papers

Hours and hours floating away

In lovely dreams and fairy tales

My fingers and toes ache to stretch a bit

Out my door and down the road

There’s a lady on her knees in her garden

Caspia  and Tritonia petals smiling

Pulling weeds to make it perfect

Not so different she and I

I understand her need to please.

I pull a smoke out from the pack in my pocket

Strike a match then the flame

The air fills with floral swirls

The whirls change into forgotten shadows

 Deep dark memories return to haunt

Not finding peace here just yet

Not finding why I have to, just yet.

Throw down the smoke and grind it into the dirt

Head on back to my tiny space

A covered camp without any trace

The love we had is finally asleep

Don’t wake it up, let it dream.

Alone is where I need to flee

Among the ashes of what used to be

Until tomorrow arrives with renewed luck

I’ll be here drawing rainbows

Doing time with the unicorns and fables

Under cloudless, starless skies –

Alone is where I need to be.

©Susan Morgan Bosler, November 18, 2012, All Rights Reserved

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Mermaid By Howard Pyle


I wish I could have been a mermaid
wet iridescently scaley flesh
dressed in a luminescent sea weed sampot
with cold, charged foamy salt waters
slipping around me as I dance between the waves
carefree, joyful
contentment born of ease
an existence without chains or sharpen blades
That holds me bound or cuts me close –
In past days of shells and rocks
the mementoes gathered furiously –
collections now at rest upon a driftwood mantle
there was no other place to keep them safe
I’ve kept them there for you.
I wish I could have been a mermaid
with long red locks of the finest, curled hair
pearls from oysters bedecked about my neck
my long, curvaceous whale’s tail
eagerly slapping at the water
sounding echos that catch your gaze –
to spark your eye, to make you ask
“what’s the cause of your distress?”
Will you come out to play today? I might ask –
“No,” say you, “I have left my love behind
I think of her through endless days!”
Discontent by your reply, I’d slap my tail “sternly”
then dive below the waves
There will be no more riant smiles this day.
I wish I could have been a mermaid
Slinking, swimming, sliding, singing
Alas, alas I am a woman
who has lost the beat of the drum
to which she set her steps upon
when dancing along the sands at the water’s line –
The mighty ocean is now complete
For along the bottom
in the water’s deep
rests a ship
upon which my love once sailed –

he dwells within a watery tomb
with only fish and whales and mermaids
To see him safe from day to day –

Oh, how I wish I could have been a mermaid.


©Susan Morgan Bosler, September 15, 2011

All rights reserved.

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