Mystic Secrets
ISBN 978-0-557-05128-1
Print: $13.98
Download: $7.50
"Mystic Secrets" Within these pages, a part of my spirit is held. As though a prism held to the light, these words hold truth in my
life. Never has my poetry reflected a side of me as it does here. I hope that the reader will find a part of themselves here as well;
for it is there in reflections that we see the side of ourselves we usually hide. Perhaps others have seen only shades of our light
side, and our dark side too. There in those hidden places we often find ourselves and for a lucky few the meaning of their life. I
have in this book offered pages for a personnel journal for readers who find inspiration. For it is true that in each soul there
dwells a poet. Please join me and enjoy the poetry and create your own.
So that Others May Live
They stand ready
to heed the call.
Willing to die
and try to save all.
They risk their lives
each and every one.
Retrieve the ones they can
and bring them home.
When the seas
become unforgiving.
You will find them there
and the lives they are saving.
In cold water deep
their lives they will give.
These brave men and women.
So that others may live.
Stephen Charles Long © 2009
~Dedicated to the brave men and women
of the United States Coast Guard~
The Dreams of Greek Gods
Empty places with dark corners
drawn curtains and shadows in play.
What waits for me now
when all is taken away?
I seek the dreams of Greek Gods
and hold the beast at bay.
I wonder sometimes,
just what the price I will pay.
Bitterness will not fit in my hands
coldness is not offered in the sand.
It resides in the eyes of some men
and the promises of lonely women.
I seek the dreams of Greek Gods
and hold the beast at bay.
In the dust that will not settle
comes another day .
Stephen Charles Long © 2009
White Feather Fan
White feather fan
sequin shawl.
In the moonlight I saw...
All my tomorrows
in the magic of your eyes.
On the edge of something
that makes me feel alive.
Hunter in the heart
if only for the reason
of knowing who we are.
Changing like the seasons.
White feather fan
pale blue eyes.
The time has come
I must say goodbye.
Stephen Charles Long © 2009
Victoria
Victoria come down from your mountain
take my hand and walk awhile.
Let me look into those brown eyes
and let me see that smile.
We could walk in the valley
where the wild flowers grow.
Sit beside the river
where cool waters flow.
A chance to see what is real
perhaps the chance
something new to feel.
A hint of romance.
When the winter is passed
and spring is less than precise.
We could share something,
something that was nice.
I see you there inside my mind
your hand reaching out.
Sometimes taking mine
without doubt.
For Victoria, please come down
I wait for you in anticipation.
As a calling of my heart
for your touch I am waiting.
Stephen Charles Long © 2009
Like Spirits that Sing
Sunset falters
it does not move,
in waves of indifference
yet what is there to disprove?
The gentle whimper,
a dying embrace,
susurration a sound
abnegate on your face.
What have I?
Ineptitude betides,
time in orchestration,
only to wither inside.
Sunrise escapes
a particular sound.
Where the breeze reshapes
and moves things around.
Like spirits that sing
the curtain dances in play.
All life has given,
so soon takes away.
Stephen Charles Long © 2009