For All The Animal Lovers In The Audience

A Pet’s Prayer

Treat me kindly,

my beloved master,

for no heart in all the world is more grateful for kindness

than the loving heart of me.

Do not break my spirit with a stick,

for though I should lick your hand between the blows,

your patience and understanding

will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.

Speak to me often,

your voice is the world’s sweetest music,

as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail

when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.

When it is cold and wet,

please take me inside,

for I am now a domesticated animal,

no longer used to bitter elements.

And I ask no greater glory than the privilege

of sitting at your feet beside the hearth.

Though had you no home,

I would rather follow you through ice and snow

than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land,

 for you are my god and I am your devoted worshiper.

Keep my pan filed with fresh water,

for although I should not reproach you if it were dry,

I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst.

Feed me clean food,

that I may stay well,

to romp and play and do your bidding,

to walk by your side,

and stand ready,

willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.

And, beloved master,

should the great Master see fit to deprive me my health or sight,

do not turn me away from you.

Rather, hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands

grant me the merciful boon of eternal rest -

and I will leave you knowing with the last breath I drew,

my fate was ever safest in your hands.

Author Unknown

The Grandfather Clock

The Grandfather Clock

The Grandfather Clock was ticking,

But time was standing still.

I was waiting for my love to call me,

But he has not called me still.

The time it is not passing.

The time it does not change.

The Grandfather Clock just clicks and clicks.

And the phone, it does not ring.

Father Time move along,

Do not make me feel this pain.

Take a moment, just one moment,

And let me feel peace again.

Copyright 2003 Brigid Bishop

Inspiration

Inspiration

What drives us to passion?

What masks our pain?

What keeps us from sleeping and drives us insane?

Those empty promises, spoken - unashamed.

Whispers of futures yet to unfold.

Empty illusions, souls that are cold.

Wanting contentment, seeking our peace.

A love that won’t bind us, but stays within reach.

We act on impulse, fan the flames of desire.

We want a soothing love, but get burned with desire.

The hurt and rejection serve to inspire.

We reek of emotion and tangle with lust.

Yes, inspiration, we do what we must.

Leave the door open, write it down again.

The pen and the paper, our constant friend.

A footstep?

No, Just a lonely tree’s moan.

We are inspired, but our soul stands alone.

 

Bridget J. Delfine

Copyright ©2007 Bridget J. Delfine

Embrace

Embrace

I embraced his sorrow, he embraced my pain.

I returned his voice to him bruised, yet still the same.

I let him speak out freely, and heard his stifled thoughts.

Something wounded in his laugh, made me think him lost.

I listened as tenderly as I might, I waited til the end.

He seemed exhausted and yet, he seemed energized again.

I thought of the years gone past, how we shared delicious desire.

I thought of the evenings spent lonely with desire.

I embraced his soul once more, held it in my mind.

I caressed his heart again.

Loved him one more time.

Bridget J. Delfine

Copyright ©2007 Bridget J. Delfine

Soulmates Return

Soulmates Return

The lovers reunite, after a stormy flight.

No chance had they, come what may, to abandon their love to the night.

The truth was out to find them, and tentacles of fate prevailed.

There was no way to deny the love that had been so thinly veiled.

No marriage made by man nor God could be stronger than their bond.

They loved each other for lifetimes past, lifetimes, and beyond.

The aeons stretched before them, the aeons stretched behind, no broken promise or indiscretion could separate them for long.

They reached back into each other’s hearts, caressed their burning minds, they fell once again to united bliss, reunited, two souls into one.

Again they attempt the lesson, again love will prevail, again they will enjoy the pain, that loving and learning entails.

Bridget J Delfine

Copyright ©2007 Bridget J. Delfine

There Will Be Wolves

There Will Be Wolves

I wrote this poem on May 30, 1997, just 23 days after becoming involved with Frank.  In many ways it was a self-fulfilling prophecy.  I think it is the greatest poem I have ever produced.  It has been published and copyrighted, you may or may not see yourself in here:

There Will Be Wolves
by Bridget J. Delfine

She looks up to meet his stare - she knows this is no answer to her prayer.
She lays back, gives it up again.
Holds tight, contaminates her heart again.

He knows his way around a woman.  He knows some secrets just unfold.  He knows that lies belie compassion.  He knows his heart has not grown old.

She always chooses the windy road.  He always takes the wrong turn.  Without a challenge, her imagination explodes.  He knows he’s driving away.  She can laugh, say he’s her friend.  He knows that truths belie compassion.  She spends the night playing pretend.  He knows he’ll give it one more day.

He knows she’s just a daydream.  She rides around remembering his touch.  He hears the fear inside his mind.  She knows he can’t care too much.  He sometimes hopes she’ll disappear.  She decides - she chooses.  He wants her to unwind.  She knows there will be wolves.

She looks at him, she feels his eyes, sees the simile in his desire.  He knows he can’t stay too long.  Life awaits him back at home.  She lays back, revels in his arms, let’s him in to her rebel heart.  He drives away thinking of her scent, and, did she meant the words that she said?

She knows that lies belie compassion.  She knows that boredom breeds contempt.  Did she waste her night tonight:  Or was it time well spent?  She wonders if she’s seeping in, she shouldn’t see anymore of him.  Confusion and collusion, the mist falls over her judgment.

She decides - she chooses - she has to play, she never loses.  she knows the rules and she laughs them off - she knows there will be wolves.  They’re running down that darker path, laughing in the face of the aftermath.  They decide - they choose - they know there will be wolves.

He knows that desire’s it’s own emotion.  He knows his way around a woman.  He smiles his best disguise, ladens his lies with compassion.  He decides - he chooses - he has to play, he never loses.  He knows the rules and he laughs them off - he knows there will be wolves.

She lays back, gives it up again.  He smiles, he’s her best friend.  She smiles, gives it up again.  She contaminates her rebel heart again.  They know desire’s it’s own emotion.  They run down the darker path.  The wolves are running beside them, they see the wolves and laugh.

They love to run with the wolves.  They love breaking the rules.  They know that lies belie compassion, they love sharing their truths.  They’re racing down that darker path, laughing in the face of the aftermath.  They run faster, because they know there will be wolves.  They know - there will be wolves.

Copyright © 1997 Bridget J. Delfine
No Part of This Poem May be Reproduced without the Express Written Permission of the Author

Can’t Leave

I was hit by the thoughts of an old friend tonight, hit hard, and I know that she’s still suffering through an impossible situation even though we haven’t talked in forever, and I wrote this poem for her.

Can’t Leave

 

Another year goes by,

another year of lies.

Nothing has really changed.

Yes, he’s still the same.

 

I wander ’round this town.

Really feeling down.

Nothing feels brand new.

It’s cause it’s the same old you!

Why can’t you set me free?

Why can’t you let me be?

If I had anyway to tell you good-bye, I would try…

But you keep me holding on,

My love for you is strong.

Yet I know I’ve been with you way too long…

I can’t let go and you can’t leave.

I know we don’t wish to deceive,

Yet I just can’t believe we’ll ever be for real…

So I keep wandering ’round,

I should leave this here old town,

But if I go you’ll still be here…so near.

Why can’t I set me free?

Why can’t I let you be?

If you had anyway to tell me good-bye, you would try…

Brigid Bishop

3/6/08