D

D

Horse geek

Girl with a mask

Poor witch

D

Who woulda thought,

Me being there all alone,

Atop that mount,

His silk brown beauty below me,

Striding out his paces,

The trees on the horizon,

Gaining traction,

Racing towards me,

So close,

I could almost touch them,

My long straight,

Yet curvy brown hair,

Whipping back,

Mixing with the dust

In my rear.

He’s tired now,

But, I’m not,

I slide down his back,

And glide to his front,

His eyes are like nectar,

And I’m his bee,

I fly around,

My lips touching his,

Drinking his sweetness,

I coat him with my pollen.

He knows his mine,

But I know there’s more.

She stands over there,

In that corner on the far right side,

I fly up,

My angel wings,

Stirring up,

Yet not disturbing,

The air caressing her,

She looks up,

And sees me,

She bats an eyelid,

She knows who’s come home,

That moment she had been waiting for,

Was here,

Those words,

That cannot be spoken,

Are heard,

And we know what the deal is,

Without a fight,

Without a struggle,

Our hearts blend and beat to the same tune,

Together we take that one step,

Moving together,

Like a couple,

Secretly dancing the tango,

This geek has found her niche,

And the niche has found her.

Like, the man in the Iron mask,

In the 17^th century,

I too am hidden,

Behind a small cloud,

That barely lets the suns,

Golden rays shine in,

Yet, I am not a prisoner,

Of the state,

Like he,

My mask is my own making,

And unlike,

The red sweet dramatic affair,

That curves around,

My near complete body,

Snuggling into all the right places,

And my long narrow nose,

Gracing my small, rose like lips,

Allowing my beauty to shine,

Showing to all ecstasy,

In its purest form,

My mask,

Has grown,

From that seed,

That, all those years ago,

Was planted,

Deep within,

Those electrical currents,

That pulse, and beat,

Keeping my head on its shoulders,

And me,

Hidden away,

From all those to see,

My mask,

My saviour,

Is my jail,

It protects me from,

You,

It protects me from,

Me,

Without it,

Who would I be?

Theres too much dirt

Down there,

In those crevices,

For anybody too know,

Too hard to clean,

Better to leave it there,

Under the carpet,

Festering,

Until I’m ready to let it out.

I’m not a poor girl,

But I’m not a rich girl either,

Yet, there’s that bite about me,

That you better watch out for,

If you take that wrong step,

I’ll cast my spell,

Like I often do,

And you’ll fall,

My trap set,

I won’t be flying above,

High in the air, like the others do,

I’ll be right here,

I have my own two feet,

No special tricks,

But the right ones to lure you in,

And then you should beware!

Alas, there’s me,

And then there’s me,

Really, you see I’m not that bad,

I’m just a beautiful girl,

Trying to make her way in the world,

Trying to do something right,

Feel my beat,

Feel my rhythm,

Feel my heart,

And you’ll soon realize,

That this poor little witch,

Is worth a wait,

Worth two,

Worth more,

Just don’t expect me,

To let my mask down,

Just for you!

Let me be free,

With my horses,

And my hand,

And maybe, just maybe,

You will be lucky enough to see,

Around this external,

Yet beautiful shell,

And see inside,

All that is me,

All that is good,

And special,

In the world,

That is me.

Yet be careful

And be patient,

As, you maybe playing,

A game of monopoly,

And get that card,

And be on your way to jail,

You won’t pass GO,

You won’t get the cash,

You’ll just stay there,

Left to ponder,

What it was you did.

Because,

This Angel,

Riding her horse,

Hidden in a witches body,

Behind a mask,

Wants and deserves,

All the love and trust,

That is due to her,

That is rightfully earned.