PART 1   CONFUSION

Why was it, I asked, that you made love with me
Is there a reason on which we might both agree
Was it a thing just bound to happen, and then it did
I think that it was fate that brought us both to bed

Events evolved beyond all choices that we had
Beyond thought of what was good for us or bad
Passion from which there could be no retreat
Leading us both to a surrender most complete

The muses must have had a secret scheme
To entice us to such a passionate sweat dream
And open our spirits to a new form of loving art
A drama to be played out in things of heart

Perhaps, my partner said, mythic compassion
There was a time muses could engender passion
Apulieus brought even divine lovers to tears
And removed for them all inhibitions and fears

But that, I am afraid, was in a time long past
And times are changed now, many changes vast
Romantic perhaps are your portrayals of our fate
But I doubt the muses brought us there to mate

I’m surprised, I questioned, you saw nothing further there
Were your words and touches then not quite so sincere
Or have I read too much into our brief meeting
What I have felt did not seem, to me at least, so fleeting

I have found with you an emotional attraction
That brings to me a calm and a loving reaction
I was sure you felt the same, or was I wrong
Was not your feeling for me entirely just as strong

Oh, I felt a strong attraction too, she said
More physical than yours, more by passions led
That type of passion needs no verse or muse
It’s a natural urge that no one has strength to refuse

So, I said, you were just unable to resist my charms
To do nothing but throw yourself into my arms
That I don’t believe, that was something different
You can not fake it, that was warm, not at all indifferent

There is something, she said, to your suggestion
Not indifference, no, that sentiment I would question
And not just bodies having sex, something more
I don’t know, we just were not separate anymore

But can that be true, I said, to have come that far
So little time together, is this like wishing on a star
Do we want so much for this to gain fruition
That we’ve foolishly left behind all our inhibition

PART 2   RESOLUTION

Should we think more of where this might be going
I fear we have lost control to emotions most fast growing
I have not just been dazzled by your charms
I am starting to see you forever I my arms

You are right, she said, we are moving far to fast
There is no reason to think that this might last
But there is a thing we do have, I know it in my heart
I too start to see us as never again apart

So now, I asked, how should we proceed
Too much talking is as likely to mislead
For us, the future is a place and time unknown
No words will help, we must do it all alone

Agreed then, I said, no more need we say
We will explore our future in a wordless way
Forward together, in some delightful wonder
Into our future we will simply blunder

The mistakes we will make we will quickly rise above
They will bring us to heights we never had dreamed of
The two of us together, there is no reason for us to fear
Against the world’s hurts, we well always persevere

But now, I said, I still am troubled with some doubt
This future we envision, need we think more about
Have I painted a world as only I would have it
Might you see a world that with mine can not fit

I saw then a tear in her eye, I had touched a nerve
Had I assumed commitment beyond what I deserve
When I then sat beside her, she moved aside
Oh god, I thought, did that suggest a great divide

My heart sank, to my eye too there came a tear
I sat frozen, there arose in me a most hurtful fear
But, as last, I spoke a wood I had not yet used
I said I thought I loved her, then smiled, as amused

I began to laugh, I am relieved by what I have just said
But why can not men just say what is in their head
And when they do, they say I think, rather than I do
But I do love you, and my commitment is overdue

I cupped her face and kissed away her tears
Then held her in my arms to take away her fears
She just melted there, neither spoke nor moved
I knew my offer of love had completely been approved

PART 3 COMMITMENT

She now raised her head to look at me
My heart melted more, if that could be
No words passed, what was there to say
Our eyes said what of love all they could convey

And still we sat, exploring with our eyes
Hers was a simple beauty, lovely best applies
Her hair, dark blond to her shoulders long
Simple pearl earrings, a fashion never wrong

I touched her ears, my finger trace their edge
On her nose a childhood scar decorated the ridge
And her eyes, they say the windows of one’s soul
In their depths her virtue they made whole

I ran my fingers through her long soft hair
Then down her neck to find her shoulders bare
Then cradled her head with gentle hands
She smiled at me, I know she understands

Now she followed suite, she too touched my ears
But spent more time than I, exploring new frontier
First one, then the other, the pinching gently of each lobe
And then her smallest finger, entered as a probe

I shuddered and reflexly turned away
But now her lips found mine to play
Sending most sensuous shock down my every nerve
Had I cared to resist I would have found nothing in reserve

I was putty in her hands, hers completely
And she in mine, bakers’ dough kneaded sweetly
Our bodies weakened by these minor pleasures
We paused now, to dream of waiting treasures

PART 4   THE BED

We were seated on the edge of that old bed
A type high at both the foot and at the head
Called a sleigh, tall ends symmetrically designed
Scrolled rails across the top made it look refined

The bed was at least a century old, made by hand
Country strong, walnut, hard use it could withstand
Even then, this craftsman had left his special sign
Scrolled top rails added grace to its simple design

We were sweating in a room just barely warm
Our faster breathing had returned to norm
We laughed a bit and said, look at our condition
Will we survive the heavy stuff at peak or our ambition

Our silly banter was like that of lifelong friends
We enjoyed each other, no delusions or pretends
And the bed too we wished to see in different light
Knowing it would be remembered with some delight

Her childhood bed, she said, had high ends too
With blanket and sticks I made tents I could withdraw into
Not happy words, I said, withdraw into, but am I prying
Oh no, she said, I read a lot, fantasy, reality denying

Hard use this bed had seen, but its wounds were superficial
Its structure still was sound, solid wood, nothing artificial
Its enduring strength had resulted from its type of joints
Mortise and tenon joints, they would never disappoint

It had been modified to support a real mattress
No ropes and straw to cause one’s back distress
And, no doubt, to house bed bugs and tiny lice
The joys of country living, living natural, real nice

Searching further we found a trademark on a rail
Rosemont Hardware, Deutchtown, in marvelous detail
And a further detail I pointed out to her consideration
Tenon fitted tightly into mortise, an erotic inspiration

PART 5  OLD WOMAN

The inn we had chosen for its country charm
Rooms were the out buildings of a nice old farm
Kitchen and dining in what the barn had been
The cook, a woman of age, held her court therein

It was time for lunch, for fuel we would need
Missed breakfast, we had double need indeed
So to the dining barn, our first visit for the day
Closed till supper, we found, in the country way

But the old cook just whispered with a smile
Walk the grounds, return in just a while
And so we did and found the old grape arbor
My love then said, this is our own safe harbor

We returned to find a box that showed much wear
An envelop on top, addressed with greatest care
Enjoy these, it read, things I prepared just for you
Take them to you room, their use is overdue

With box on table we opened now the letter
Two brief notes would explain the purpose better
One was to be read by me, the other by my lover
We could hardly wait for their secrets to uncover

Box and bed are by the same craftsman’s hand
Rosemont Hardware marks both with red hot brand
He had come here to Deutchtown before the Civil War
He built furniture, built and owned the hardware store

I made love with his grandson in that bed long ago
We had five days, then off to war he would go
So much killing there, our priest winked an eye
He did not return, I saw him last, waving his good-bye

You will see our picture, eating grapes in that old arbor
Oh, that was for us our most safe harbor
The other, our initials in a tree on his father’s farm
We’d build a house there, small but with some charm

My love held her note with trepidation
The note I had read had brought some consternation
But reading her note now, her tears began
The note read simply, love him while you can

There was a silence, we took each other’s hands
And knew how much that old woman understands
Memories of a young lover, now long dead
Rekindled by new young couples loving in that bed

And now, in the food box, another note we read
Several days worth, if you care not to leave that bed
You will find your menu to be quite well planned
It was the best of her cooking, always in demand

There is milk in the ice box, behind all the beer
That is all my gift to you, to bring to you good cheer
Don not dally now, eat up, there is loving to be done
And please, enjoy that gift and make it lots of fun

Not our mother’s words, we laughed out loud
But of that old lady we were both quite proud
Her long years taught her what is important in this life
Love is what will save you from this world’s strife

So to her honor we ate and drank a cold beer
And thanked her for this most generous cheer
We held again her photos with the greatest care
Might this old bed remember, and perhaps compare

We had now long finished with our food
And were in a more pensive mood
I love life, I finally said, and picked up her hand
I love you too, she said, and yes, this life is grand

I would still like a walk, she said, settle that meal
I would like to recover our earlier mood, I felt so real
I have not felt that way before, you have changed my life
My old world contained far too much strife

PART 6   BANTER

At the arbor we felt kinship to young lovers past
There are things, my love said, that will forever last
Love is the constant, never does it change
Regardless of what the world might for us arrange

We walked now with an obvious haste
Chuckling, ever increasing our pace
Then she called back as she ran for the door
I hear the bed calling us, that I will not ignore

I do not like the thought, I said, of sex as obligation
But it does add a new degree of fascination
Our contribution to a fine tradition
That sounds to me, she said, like a proposition

Bet it will work with you, I said
Not fair, she said, with you I would jump into any bed
Good to know, I said, I will save a lot on flowers
Careful, she said, do not overestimate your powers

That kind of banter we enjoyed the most
Fun stuff, feelings, often suggestive, never gross
She stand now, demurely, her smile inviting
Her whole body speaking of something most inviting

Watch this, she said, reaching beneath her sweater
To return with her bra, wa la, I feel much better
With bra clips, men really have not got the knack
They just fumble and curse, for them a real set back

There is time later, I said, for dexterity testing
My fingers you will find surprisingly arresting
But then, with sun now behind, I saw her silhouette
Lovely, I thought, a picture I would not soon forget

Her body was slim but of muscular build
It shouted a sensuality finely distilled
Her hair whispering an airy splendor
Lips parted, awaiting sweet surrender

Silken neck to her shoulders blending
Sweater moulded to secrets now impending
Bra-less, her breasts’ natural form had now returned
Proud, as if release from sweater’s hold they yearned

Nipples through clothing are always exciting
Sentinels to shapes even more inviting
And sometime seen in feminine perfection
Embarrassment of woman, nipple erection

And now my love interrupted my thought
You are smiling, you seem to do that quite a lot
Mentally undressing, I said, something guys like to do
Sometimes, it’s sort of a lustful preview

I have done that to, she said, since first we met
It is not quit fair, though, in our new mind set
No private thoughts now, say what you are thinking
We think the same, we have developed a linking

I doubt your mind was touching my nipples, I said
Her mind, she said, was licking instead
But we are wasting time in games we’re playing
I want you in flesh, not in mind’s eye displaying

Please, I said, let me look a bit longer, just for me
Your nipples were not erect till now, I would like to see
They are like grapes on that arbor just next door
Grapes we had fed each other, just before —-

Before what, she said, pausing, our new beginning
We do think alike, I answered, we are in our first inning
I do love you so, she said, let me come to you
But I have not finished yet, I said, this is all too new

She was framed in window light behind her now
Such light, I said, did a most intimate view allow
I am embarrassed, she said, I am an old fashioned lass
I see no thong either, you clearly are a woman of high class

Her face, with blushing, was now quite red
And she suggested I might like a cold shower instead
But our smiles agreed now, there was no doubt
It was time to bring rain to that bed’s long drought

PART 7   THE SWEATER

So, to the bed we ran, shoes and socks flung
Shirt and pants off, her skirt too, we were young
No fare, she cried, sweater’s too tight to off in a scurry
I would help, I said, but I’d rather watch, we are in no hurry

I want to see that overhead crossed arm maneuver
And she was indeed an excellent sweater remover
Breasts appearing slowly in a choreographed pairing
Areola rising like moons, nipples with a noble bearing

The sweater gave birth to shoulders and then to head
But it was at her breasts that I stared instead
Oh stop it, she said, you are like a boy misbehaving
As far as tits go, I will soon satisfy your every craving

Fine, I said, but I have noticed your panties are wet
Wet fart, she retorted, happens every time we’ve met
Or maybe you peed your pants in excitement, I said
I love you too, she said, do you want to sleep with me in bed

Yes, I replied, but I want to sniff them later to be sure
You are sick, she said, your mind’s is just not pure
Driven snow, my love, may I then taste them instead
Not if you want to sleep with me in bed

While you have them on then, may I taste them now
They are good panties, teeth marks I can not allow
Besides, a good investigator would go directly to the source
Bingo, I said, a suggestion I can endorse

I laid her back and kissed he lips lightly
Responding, her lips opened so slightly
Our tongues then touched, breathlessly
But soon we exchanged breathing most intimately

In our loving slowly passed the time
Our bodies blending as in to one, sublime
A most careful push and pull, no haste here
Slowly, slowly till explosions had their premier

She fell back and started a girlish giggling
Her entire body, it seemed, in a most delightful wiggling
Oh god, she said, I have never loved like that before
You, and that memory in my heart forever more

When your time came —a word that precipitated a pause
Wiggling and giggling again, and we both knew the cause
Bastard that I am, when she had stopped, I poked her bun
Giggles again, and a hail of fake blows, bedroom fun

I suggested coital dissipation, but she would not cease
How about copulatory consummation, a slight decrease
How about we just cuddle then; she whispered a soft amen
Oh god, how I love you, I said, I am the luckiest of men

Her eyes closed in an instant as she fell into sleep
I pulled a quilt over our bodies, us warmer to keep
The soft sound of her breathing, the touch of her skin
So many delights, where to begin

PART 8   WARM RAIN

When I awoke it was dark, almost ten
A note, to the bed, was held up by a pin
Dear love, it read, I will return soon with our dinner
Fancy stuff from the kitchen, a real prize winner

I saw then the table was set for candlelight dining
So I showered quickly and wore cloths of fine designing
Then she arrived, followed by busboy with large trey
Two bottles of wine in her arms for our bistro cafe

I thought we would have carry out with beer
But the old lady saw me and, no, she would not hear
Stakes, baked potatoes, veggies, the whole deal
Her gift, she said, with joy she could not conceal

And a wonderful dinner it was
Conversation and nice wine, we both got a buzz
Lots of hand holding, looking into eyes
Love’s complete surrender, no disguise

Rain began to fall loudly on the tin roof up above
From childhood, I said, that is a joyful sound I love
My lover demurred, I fear I do not with such joy abound
When I was five my life was affected in a way profound

A neighbor boy and I, from rain in his father’s garage we did hide
Until my mother found us, we played doctor while inside
His father arrived very soon thereafter and our parents talked
Then, hand in hand with mommy, to home we slowly walked

But, she smiled, I remember nothing useful to relay
Except it is hard to pee in view of others, can’t to this day
Poop either, but I haven not had to do that since
Embarrassing, makes me foolishly blush and wince

Sounds innocent enough to me, I said, though lost in time
Well, she said, I carry still a scar from that heinous crime
On my nose, his nasal probe, apparently it slid
The boy’s father, a Preacher, probably beat his poor kid

I suggested we stand under the stoop just outside
We found it exciting, a feeling that ozone the storm supplied
And we found rain that was unexpectedly warm
I said, oh, this is such a wonderful storm

I hope this never stops, I said, neither warm rains nor hot sex
Can not vouch for one, she said, for other I give rain checks
I love a bargain, I said, add coupons too and I always will succumb
I could not hear with the thunder, she said, you asked me for a condom

Sorry, I am a Catholic girl, in their use I am not tutored
But worry not, that kid’s father had me neutered
Bad joke, she added quickly, pills, also not allowed
Apparently, I said, it were not required that sex be disavowed

Light did from our bedroom’s window dimly glided
Flowering bushes privacy and a lovely scent provided
We pushed our faces out, rain washed over our skin
She whispered, this is baptism and forgiveness of sin

And both forgiven and forgotten, the record expunged
Both our pasts now gone, into new lives we now are plunged
I asked when sinning we could begin again
What we do in loving sex, she said, could never be a sin

Oh god, she said, that brought to mind that Preacher
He got caught later selling child pornography, an awful creature
His son too had been a victim, she said, crying first, then sobbing
I improved his business while the lives of other kids he was robbing

I knew in an instant her happiness had died
Somehow, all her rational defenses had this threat defied
Not a place for levity, I led her back and placed her on the bed
She set staring blankly, without emotion to be read

PART 9   STORMS

I undressed her now and put my lover into bed
Wrapped her in a quilt from her feet to her head
Within this cocoon, she seemed safely to be warmed
Help me God, I said, bring back a butterfly transformed

She whispered, these storms, protect us both from harm
Restless sleep ensued, she clearly was in greatest alarm
I watched till she slept calmly, then pondered her request
Protect us both, she had obsessed

The innkeeper at the door was calling, bad storms around
I am a lineman and I must go, many lines soon will be down
Kitchen door to a cellar, hear sirens, that is where to go
Candles in the cabinet, get them now, before things blow

The lights went out when candles I just had found
It was very still, sky’s green iridescence most profound
Low clouds boiled, moved in slow circles, deadly
A very eerie light and a distant thunder medley

The cellar was large enough, good protection
If a tornado hit we would rise later in resurrection
There were a lot of long poles there, nothing much of worth
Then an idea, to a safe tent they would give birth

So, up came the stuff of magical construction
Placed quietly at the bed for a loving production
I found cloth in a sewing cabinet and twine as well
My Swiss knife did the rest as I worked as in a spell

When finished I sat, nodding, touching her hand
She was returning from a dreadful no man’s land
I saw the lineman returning, went out to get some word
Next county really hit, he said, bad damage has occurred

I found her sweating, covers kicked off again
Her dreams perhaps still in a frightful domain
With dry sheets I tucker her in with gentle care
Than, exhausted, pulled up a chair

PART 10   SAFE HOUSE

I awoke just after nine, sleepy and confused
Then saw her face, wonderfully amused
I love it, she said, and it saved us from such malice
This old bed, a Noah’s ark, a tented palace

There is a hot bath, breakfast in half an hour, she said
The cook could not make it, so it will be me instead
The old lady lives in next county, I do hope she is all right
All we have is cold cereal for your morning delight

The bath helped, but I faced the day with trepidation
My lover had had a tortured night, maybe saw her damnation
She seemed so happy now, but this thing was not finished
Perhaps she is held by an evil not to be diminished

I found mix, she later said, sausage with hot cakes
Found syrup too, a great breakfast for us that makes
I want to know all about the palace of a sheik retreat   
It is fantastic, your idea was absolutely unique

Not unique, I said, you said you had once found comfort in a tent
Perhaps a place to hide from a world of discontent
And your saying, withdraw into, I found that to be most chilling
I think you had this in mind, you were scared but willing

She had gotten up while I was still sleeping, just after sun rise
To her, of course, the tent was an amazing surprise
And so she stood almost entranced
Then around that bed she fairly danced

She rushed through what one does to start each day
Quick shower, washed hair, things important, as we say
Her hair she held in a silver clip of antique styling
Pearl ear rings, tasteful costly things, quite beguiling

She had spent hours examining the great bed tent
Four poles tied together at their end’s extent
At each corner the other end tied to top rail’s edge
Thus producing a pyramid, a pole at each ridge

More poles filled in each end, all tied tightly
Flower patterned fabric over the whole then lightly laid
Sides were fabric rolled on poles, held up by ties
Among the flowers flew hundreds of butterflies

PART 11   PREACHER MAN

I am not sure, she said, what magic lies within that tent
But I know it is needed, somehow, to heal a soul’s rent
You built it with your love, perhaps you have gained insight
Bed tents, I said, will bring your inner self to light

My soul’s true meaning, she asked, in that tent I might see
Yes, I said, a view of what you can and ought to be
As if your experience directs you to a single destination
A place in which you would find your soul’s salvation   

I will tell my story, she said, from a child’s point of view   
Much is memory, though found not false by factual review
It is the story of a child, lost in spite of being cherished
And who, without that love, surly would have perished

So into the tent we climbed, and she started her barrage
That Preacher, that boy’s father, took pictures in that garage
Of me only that once, of his son in many a different place
The son was seen in age till puberty, an unbelievable disgrace

The facts I learned after that Preacher had died in jail
After too the suicide of his son, another sad detail
My pictures remained secret in his personal collection
But of others, tens of thousands sold without detection

But oh, she said, I was sold in a far worse way
The Reverend, a radio audience of thousands he had to sway
No pictures needed, his strident voice enthralled
My name was unknown but to a few for their help he’d call

To his audience I represented all the evils of a godless society
I was pornography and, by extrapolation, all impropriety
I was all the Preacher didn’t like or called immoral
Anything with which his audience might have a quarrel

As indignation rose, so did audience recruitment
Larger audience meant more lucrative advertisements
Pornography was rotting the minds and morals of us all
By God, good Christians, donate now, we must stand tall

My father’s business did on many suppliers depend
But soon, many vital contracts came mysteriously to end
He was ruined in a year, and then came a fatal stroke
God’s work, The Preacher said, vengeance he did provoke

Our identity was never public and few knew the details
Christians hid the cause of my father’s falling sales
The failed business sold at auction, guess who bought the lot
To my mother’s aunt we moved, and all I soon forgot.

For now, my lover said, that is enough conversation
Things I have just said have had a long gestation
And now, they are born to the light of day
Not exactly something you might hear most  every day

I am surprised, I said, at the glibness of that comment
And you are calm, while I have found this to be a stressful event
Do not be puzzled, she said, it is called abreaction
I have just purged all of my tensions, to my greatest satisfaction

I see from your face, she said, abreaction’s a word new
Education gave a word I can seldom used, so I’ve used it on you
You can thank my dear aunt, it was she who paid my tuition
And I hope, in her memory, I will some day fulfill her ambition

It is hot in here, she said next, as out of the bed she leapt
A weight has just been lifted from me, it is most hard to accept
It is a new feeling, from my past I feel freed
Usually I want slow loving, but right now it is a quickie that I need

Now, a quickie is just a colloquial expression
This one, or several, became an extraordinary session
Ending with a long slow loving in that wonderful old bed
Let us clean up for supper and thank the old girl, I said

I would go for that, my lover said, if it were not quarter till one
And my saga, though well started, is not nearly done
So, let us walk to the arbor and cool down a while
Now, while we’re naked, I questioned with a smile

We make another hit on that old box of treats
Perishables gone, but there was still a generous lot of eats
Marked N-P these were, a code we had broken
Each rapped with care, and with love unspoken

PART 12   CHILDHOOD

We could enter the tent now with less trepidation
We had blessed it now with loving sex and conversation
You know now what occurred, she said, but not the snare
And how an innocent child was brought to such despair

I had no idea what brought our home such distress
And, not knowing how to ask, I could only guess
It was a witch hunt, I had once heard my father say
I guess I took that with more than a little dismay

At halloween, witches were ugly and scary
Might even grab and eat a child unwary
With the devil, I knew, witches connected
From them all, I would need be protected

The word bankruptcy I heard and things got worse
My mother said it was like some terrible ancient curse
Then my father got sick, they called it a stroke
Was that a thing, I wondered, curses can provoke

I often visited father in his hospital bed
Words now ugly and slurred, what had he just said
Shouting curses, saying the devil was surly winning
He had been losing the fight from the very beginning

Then the priest came, and then my father died
It had all come so fast, everyone just cried
But then the priest quietly to mother exclaimed
That Preacher, he did this, and in god’s name   

To my aunt’s we moved to a town quite distant   
My father would come, said my mother insistent
He would be buried in a town not full of hate
Where we were near him, and some peace create

My aunt was really my father’s aunt, but not old
And she and her house did with love us enfold
A widow for years, with considerable wealth
Active and fun and in surprising good health

She was a painter of art and of wide renown
With examples in collections the world around
I would learn art and painting from one of the best
With my nascent talent she soon was impressed

I started second grade at a school nearby
With new friends, to the past I soon said goodbye
This was a Catholic school and surprising to me
The teachers wore black habits and a rosary

Of God and Jesus they always were preaching
Eternal love and souls they always were teaching
I did not know preaching in schools was allowed
But the nuns scared me, so I did not question that aloud

I was scared too by their stories of devils and of sin
And recalled my father saying the devil might win
I remembered too what the priest had proclaimed
A Preacher caused my father to die in god’s name

This was confusing to my seven year old mind
Had they killed my father, god and Preacher aligned
The Preacher with whom my mother had spoken
Before the trouble and our home was so badly broken

When asked, a nun said that Preachers were all evil
Those Protestants had caused a great and sinful upheaval
So both God and The Preacher I soon came to hate
And the nuns with witches I could clearly equate

Nuns talked of eternity and how long that might be
And if you loved Jesus you would go to heaven for free
But if you didn’t, the devil would take you to hell
Now finally I saw it all as just silly, even I could tell

The nuns talked of original sin without end
Might there, I wondered, be a second hand sin
To the nuns I didn’t ask that question our loud
But that I had thought of it, I felt quite proud

So on the playground my comment soon got around
And the nuns thought it a sacrilege, really profound
But the source I had hidden and I was not detected
With that terrible crime I would never be connected

But the nuns never gave up on original sin
Or of our human weakness and an evil deep within
Souls were all black till Jesus wiped them clean
Like some kind of supernatural washing machine

I tempted not fate on the playground again
But from some rebellion I  just could not abstain
By that time I could draw with pastels and charcoal
So I drew an ugly black glob and called it a soul

When mother inquired of my artistic black soul
I said I thought it all crap what the nuns did extol
She corrected my language, but said she did agree
It is not religion, it is knowledge that sets you free

PART 13  DISCOVERY

My aunt’s home was a wonderfully happy place
But for some years, two lives I did embrace
My mental unrest to my tents I did confined
And no one knew I had two lives entwined

My non-tent life I filled with learning and with fun
With my great aunt’s help, a new life I had begun
She was filled with a joy only learning can provide
Then one day, she clutched her chest and died

A good life, a good death, we all did concur
Of life’s good things, an experienced  connoisseur
In death as in life, she was generous in her will
She directed that I go to school till I had got my fill

I entered a private, academic school
Where tolerance of ideas was the only basic rule
Gods and devils, I could argue now, are just delusions
And debate others who might have come to different conclusions

Debate and philosophy, became my favorite sports
I read broadly, ideas of many sorts
Supernatural cause of things I could now say was a lie
That evil arose in minds of man, only a fool would deny

False myths, though, some concepts did reveal
Like existence of a soul, I believe the soul is real
Real as the mind is real, that is the soul’s estate
Not supernatural, as if to godly things it to equate

Brain give thoughts, from which mind does issue
So whence the soul, if not of supernatural tissue
Product of thoughts to a higher order inducted
When thoughts have a rational self constructed

Soul, I said, is the total that thinking makes of us
It is the condensation of all the ethics we profess
In approach to others, it is the real face presented
It is everything by which we are represented

In high school with my art I had to act most prudent
For with my training I was both a teacher and a student
But to abstract constructions, I was soon introduced
And as an outlet for my soul, I was soon by it seduced

Unusual for someone my age, I gained a bit of fame
My aunt’s style born new the art critics did proclaim
But among the schools that sought me
I chose one lesser known to pursue philosophy

PART 14  DETAILS

These long conversations happened mostly in the bed
And mostly in panties and shorts, other clothes we had shed
Up and down as beer runs or necessity required
We sought out the meaning of what had for me transpired

Before college, she said, I looked into my past
Newspapers from my old town, facts at last
The stories were appalling, shivers up my spine
If there is a devil, this man was his shrine

I heard recordings of his radio harangues
And of resulting mobs and roving gangs
Those people, he said, the Holy Spirit possessed
His porn revival lasted a year before it lost its zest

But then, five years later, a raid on his church
And just one letter had justified that search
The last writings of his son before he died
Spoke of his father’s deeds in detail, and of suicide

Delivered to the press by an unknown source
A blackmailer, some thought, who had found remorse
My mother, in fact, my father’s old papers discarding
Noticed it by chance, delivered it in person, guarding

That was some six years after my father died
His porn ring, then, over sever years running, I cried
But its extent was never investigated
To news readers it soon became dated

Displays of Christianity at its very best
No one else did the police arrest
From the crime scene all were quickly banished
Evidence there might have been soon vanished

Preacher’s lawyers were of great renown
Son’s letter was hearsay, nothing else was found
The Jews, Catholic, Liberals behind all of this
The judge’s only option was clearly to dismiss

But the judge saw nothing of repentance
Six years in state prison was his harshest sentence
In prison, though, pedophiles faced an ugly plight
He died of brutal castration on one dark night

A tent back then for me had been my salvation
Angst resolved in a child’s explanation
Things when explained, less scary they become
Saved from depression to which I might succumb

In the end, I learned a lesson in my life
Salvation would come when I understood my strife
Neither The Preacher nor god had my father killed
It was a brain artery that a blood clot had filled

Stress was one of the contributing factors
And in that, evil men were principal actors
But gods, devils, fate, they caused no clot
Hating solves nothing,  better just forgot

With increasing maturity, concepts congealed
No gods or devils would be in my religion consealed
Not atheistic faith, just all supernatural rejected
The age of reason would forever be projected

PART 15  THE SNARE

So, what is this snare you spoke of my love
I am not sure I see the meaning or origin thereof
Was it that snare that brought such distress last night
Yes, she replied, whatever it is, I think you are right

In my childhood I knew only of our family disaster
It must have, I thought, a supernatural master
But, as you have seen, of that I have outgrown
I see no connection to my current combat zone

It began, I am sure, learning of The Preacher’s deeds
While I had no real connection, it would plant seeds
I refuse to take blame for deeds of my five year old self
Blame lies entirely with The Preacher himself

Yes lover, I said, with that you have nothing to do
So, what other path should we next pursue
I was overwhelmed by hatred, she said with a sigh
And of more than The Preacher, he got his good-bye

I have delved deeply into the philosophy of man
He will be a real asshole whenever he can
All evil in this world comes from a failure of mind
But that is not it either, evil minds can be refined

I have often thought it is love they lack
Why else would they their fellow man attack
I think it comes down, I said, to avarice and greed
Acquire as much as you can before death intercede

And not just wealth; experience, sensations too
Aggrandize yourself, stimulations, nothing eschew
Not really hate, I think, they just have no concern
Except in how others, to their lusts, give good return

A complete lack of love, my love suggested
As minds developed, there was something arrested
And since, to my thinking, soul and mind are entwined
They will not change, forever a menace to fellow mankind

But the immensity of his sin, I think, that is the snare
And of my connection, though innocent, I was aware
Yes, that is it, that is what is pulled me to despair
I need assurance that love, not hate, takes greater share

PART 16  SALVATION

We were startled now by a knock at the door
We answered to find a box and note, just as before
Cook is still not here, she would want you to have this
We are worried about her, we fear something is amiss

And soon another knock, the lineman with bad news
Old lady is dead, crushed in her cellar among boxes of letters
Almost saved her, those old boxes, but the tornado was really bad
We could only hold each other, it was all so sad

At the table now, we opened the box with resign
Lots of cold chicken and a bottle of wine
Yet another knock, the old waiter, tears in his eyes
She would want you to have this, a much better wine for goodbyes

It was a very quiet evening, cold chicken and good wine
After a time my lover said, like this wine, her love, so fine
You see, here is that reassurance of love I was seeking
And you, squeezing hard my hand, barely speaking

I am so sorry, she continued, that evil still survives
But I know now, we can fight it with love in our lives
Tent, the bed, its history of lovers, that was my salvation
Till these, and you, I had too little confirmation

My collapse last night into deepest depression
That was the snare’s last barb, its final deception
It was a test of my commitment to love, not to hate
And it was our love that saved me from that fate

Now, she said, let us dismantle this tent
It served its purpose, it relieved my worst torment
So first the fabric, then the poles, wine toasting its end
Returned to storage as if nothing had ever happened

PART 17  GOODBYES

It was late now and we finished the lesser wine too
Both a bit tipsy, we sprawled in the bed, all askew
It was so different with no tent, unprotected we felt
So under the covers we crawled like children dealt

A hug and a kiss and we soon fell to sleep
Up at sunrise, refreshed, good feeling down deep
Morning things done, off to the barn for breakfast
A good crowd, all talking of a good life, now past

More couples arrived to join in what was said
And many we found had shared that old bed
It was a strange mixture of sadness and joy
Reunited again, she and her soldier boy

A reserved calmness between us now
More mature in thinking somehow
We were solidly one, no doubt about it
Our souls to each other we did fully commit

We stayed for the funeral in the old church near by
Like the talk at the restaurant, either smile or cry
Someone had an old photo from ages ago
A beautiful young girl and her handsome beau

Laid in the family plot; after her, one place unfilled
We went to see what of her house the wind had not killed
But county crews had already hauled the debris away
While a breeze blew fragments of old letters astray

Large oak logs cut for a sawyer to buy
On one, initials of lovers, a love that refused to die
The sawyer arrived, we talked as chains he applied
This tree fell, he said, killed an old woman inside

To the city now; the inn, but not memories, left behind
We had learned in that little town an insight into mankind
Only you know whether hate or love in your soul reside
Those two battle, but love will win if doubt be put aside

We occasionally return to the old burial ground
Two new stones had been installed we found
One for the old lady, one for her beau
They touch together lightly in their row