ladyslipper revelation said, Princess Haiku

Lady of the Lake by Diane Dehler

Lady of the Lake

Tear drops icy and pure frozen heart of the

Lady of the Lake rises.

Love uncoiling from its skin awakens a

Dark midnight sun of forbidden love.

Her lips seek mine hungry for twilight,

It conceals gives one more hour.

Spells do exist you insist, your breath

On my fingertips.

You murmur where the music of tides and

Inner chambers of the heart sing.

I follow you to a land beneath the wave

Where no mortal walks.

My hand strokes gently down your back curls

With the slope of round buttocks,

Ancient hill over which all great battles are

Won and lost.

We wait for the hour before time promised to

All who seek the most holy of grails.

Diane Dehler

First published June 1014, Contemporary Literary Horizon

Sweet Spot by Diane Dehler

Diane Dehler

June 10, 2013

Sweet Spot

Dandelion seeds unfurl a white thistle sky.

She is dressed as a ballerina in clouds.

Eyes around her are flounces of poppy petals.

She is imperturbable beauty, an entire forest of tall trees.

Her dress: a dream theater and underneath her dress the sweet spot.

They told me about it.

I searched for it myself she said; higher, lower…

A communication that loses itself in its own endeavor for a

body prefers to understand beyond words.

This way- that way, your body adjusts itself against mine.

A wave laps against the seashore, a

merge of in and out.

You are as much a part of my body as a lover, sweet spot.

Your pleasure moist, a mirror of agate soul body,

Agate smooth skin that always knows the way….

Diane Dehler

First published in poetic diversity: the Litzine of Los Angeles, April 2014

Images of Love by Diane Dehler

Images of Love



I

I touch you staring into a
fire’s crackling flame. We are

Only shadows on the wall
for there is no time.


II

The evening is short;
surrounds us draws us apart,
reunites us.

We are the only music
that is real.



III


When you came to me
I knew at once Adam. You
were forbidden fruit.

Soft are your firm hands
on me. We have always
known each other.



IV

My fear of you binds me to the
moving postures of this bed.
Is this fear love?


VI


You leap from the music
of, Swan Lake, a prince but

Tonight I am Clytemnestra,
wearing sackcloth and ash. We
do not touch.


VII

We make love by a
seashore. I marvel at your sun

Drenched hair and throw my lace
dress carelessly aside.


VIII

Sand wedges batik designs on
our footsteps. A collector of

Seaweed and tides finds my
dress covered with wet sand &

Takes it home. You love
me without it.



IX

Eroticism is a mirage,
touched it disappears.

Who told you, you could
touch my thigh?





X


When the sailor’s red sun
sinks low in the sky.

In that second we will know
all desire.


Published reviously, From the Four-Chambered Heart: In Tribute to Anais Nin, Sybaritic Press, June 2013.

a ladyslipper moment said, Princess Haiku

I came across a lady slipper orchid at the San Francisco Conservatory of Flowers, that captivated me with its beauty. Amidst these flowers creatures my spirit travels.