Oh fickle Fate

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Oh fickle Fate,
That threw me out into the world alone,
A man whose heart was made to love, you cast
Me in a desert there to die, my bones
To lie in testament to those who pass
Them slowly by but give no second glance.

Oh fickle Fate,
You forged me strong and though your puzzles vex
They shall be overcome with work and time,
And then that member of the fairer sex
Shall have my heart and She will say, “You’re mine…”,
Your obstacles? They do not stand a chance.

Oh fickle Fate,
All those miles between us are just distance,
And distance is defeated step by stride,
For I have the will, I have the patience,
To breach that chasm, be it e’er so wide,
Then holding Her, my Po and I shall dance.

Oh fickle Fate,
The game is won! Throw in the towel I say,
For when My Lady’s heart is finally won
Her ‘dawg’ and Her will get to have their day,
Their week, their year, their life, and then the Sun
Will never set upon their True Romance.

Martin Graham King © 2017

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January 29, 2017

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January 29, 2017

Such Beauty that mine eyes perceive,
Gives cause for my poor heart to grieve,
Because this paragon I see,
Shall never stand here next to me.
Benighted is my wretched life,
Her grace it lacks, whilst gloom is rife,
To take her gentle hands in mine,
Our fingers, like our souls, entwined,
Is but a dream my heart holds dear,
For she is far away, not near,
And knows not she’s my heart’s desire,
The oxygen for passion’s fire,
And yet my heart holds on to hope,
And slips not down the slippery slope,
Of unrequited Love’s despair,
For whilst her soul is strong and fair,
And in her breast her heart doth beat,
All thoughts of her remaineth sweet,
And give my soul cause to rejoice,
My heart lives happy with it’s choice.

© 2017 Martin Graham King

January 14, 2017

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January 14, 2017

An orange flash, a tufted tail,
Those red-clad bastards on her trail,
The hounds commence their ghastly wail,
An orange flash, a tufted tail,
The Sabs work hard to make them fail,
The Vixen’s scent is growing stale,
An orange flash, a tufted tail,
Those red-clad bastards lose her trail.

~O~

In honour of the heroic work by the Devon County Hunt Saboteurs (http://tinyurl.com/htneenv) and all the Hunt Sabs across the country, who venture out in all weathers to try and keep our Foxes alive and the bastard foxhunters honest…

If you can, please click on the link and look for their donate button, They need all the help they can to keep the Landrover running and the Foxes safe and sound, Thank You 🙂

© 2017 Martin Graham King

Vegan Pledge

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Vegan Pledge

Let no more life be sacrificed
To feed or clothe my mortal frame,
No rape, no pain, no bodies diced,
Let no more life be sacrificed,
Instead I’ll just have veggies spiced…
Compassion is my lifelong aim,
Let no more life be sacrificed
To feed or clothe my mortal frame.

© 2016 Martin Graham King

Requited not

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Apologies for the lacklustre piece I am posting here, I am a little ‘ring-rusty’ after my muse abandoned me for several months and I had a bad case of The Block. Please bear with me whilst I scrape off the rust, dust away the cobwebs and get my mojo back and powered up.
Normal service will be resumed shortly ..

Requited not

Think of the Love that is requited not,
The Love that is ignored or worse, rebuffed,
So, when at night, you’re lying in your cot,
Your cherished dreams are like a candle snuffed,

Think of the tree that makes a gift of leaves
To nourish and protect the earth beneath,
And then capricious wind the earth bereaves,
By scattering what lovelorn tree’d bequeath’d,
A Love like this lies buried in my chest,
Forgotten by the one who lit its fuse,
It flutters like a new chick in its nest,
Because my dear, You’re still the one I’d choose,
So spare a thought for what lives in my heart,
The target of Cupid’s apropos dart.



© 2016 Martin Graham King

Soliloquy 4

Annabel Lee by David Garcia Forés

Annabel Lee by David Garcia Forés

Soliloquy 4

Here cometh Heartbreak,
dressed with tousled hair and wanton eye,
bedecked with promises she dare not keep,
yet casting them about like crumbs to the hungry,
a Lover In Love with Love whose heart,
though full of fire and life,
is locked within a cage
and cannot therefore breathe the air
that is the love bequeathed
by another’s Soul.
I fear her heart will die
if kept bereft of Love,
and its beauty,
whose glow has warmed my soul,
will dim and sputter
and then flicker out
like a candle flame drowning
in its own wax.
But like a moth,
I am drawn to that light,
willing to risk being burned again,
and again,
and again,
till she consumes me completely.

~O~

© 2015 Martin Graham King

The Gift

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Today, with Love, I give my heart to Thee,
A gift that shall be thine forevermore,
And anyone with eyes could surely see
There is no man on earth couldst Love thee more.
This is a gift thee already possess,
A prize thee won so very long ago,
And though for many years I did repress
My Love, now is the time that thee should know
That every day my heart beat just for thee.
I held thee not, I kissed thee not, but still
Sweet passion’s fire burnt in the heart of me
With heat that neither space nor time couldst kill,
And so Belovéd hear these words from me,
Today, with Love, I give myself to Thee.

~O~

© August 26, 2015 Martin Graham King