quiet, calm, polite.
My husband, withdrawn, subdued.
Intelligence gleaming, from beneath cold eyes.
But deep inside him lurks a terrible beast
It is ugly, gaping.
It lulls a soul to sleep,
And then feeds upon it.
Sucks, at the souls' deepest fears
aiding them to create a reality, based
off all that is ugly inside.
Enabling, the soul, to feel all dirty inside, somehow
As he begins to take, each night, at what is his
He feels, by right,
Just for sticking around.
My husband, he is full of intrigue
There are mysteries beyond,
What most Mortals could tell
Pools of recognition, and sharp shadows of imagination,
He is, reflective of all life,
And the Ancient, firm, slow-moving Forest...
He is reflective, of the Mountain,
His heart, much like ancient stone
and more stubborn, then a goat.
My husband, who flies with the Falcon,
And creeps through the night, as a jackal,
A very shadow on the wall.
My husband, who is the Red Fox,
By cunning alone, caught the gingerbread man.
Elusive, dark Angel, cast brightly in a robe of Divine Light.
My husband, who swims with dolphins from neptune,
Each night, glorious indigo rest, to recharge, the bright light,
deep in his soul.
He's not really mine at all you know.
He rode in one night, but a wounded sparrow,
With a broken paw, a broken heart, and a broken soul.
And I lay beside he, broken also...
And together, we nitched a little hallow
Deep down, neath the earth.
In which to heal together.
My husband knows secrets, deeper then any
Mortal lifetime, could gather, or begin to piece,
With any one single mind.
This husband, this husband of mine.
And he is elusive....evasive as all hell.
He drives me mad daily, irritating my aura so...
And he reminds me daily, of why I love him so.