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how proudly she struts aware as his eyes follow every move she makes smile not quite haughty for she desires this hot gaze which strips her naked her walk becomes dance hot seductive tango he cannot resist (Inspired by a video of an Argentinian tango.) ---- love not in darkness don't mute ecstasy with shame embrace its true light ----- drinking from petals nectar only love can bring to delicate folds ----- the two skills i have love and writing poetry both bring only pain ----- naked on her bed waiting to greet her lover gasps as he enters ----- never having been i still dream of paradise adam to your eve ----- she chose my heart's words wove them into love's restraints bound herself with them ----- of possible sins let not one of disrespect sully our desires ---- my heart has known you before sight or sound or taste loving you that long ----- eager eyes closed tight better for my mind to see your beauty revealed ----- never enough words so i keep transposing them in revealing poems ----- i gamble for love tossing my poetic dice hope to win your heart ----- as i grow older i recall love known and made but words come slowly ----- if she were my love and she is but doesn't know my words would tell her ----- if i could once be somewhere in your memories if not in your heart • Donovan Baldwin

A wisp, a thought Hot on your ear Gleem of recognition Energy from afar Begging you to listen Imploring, crying in the dark Don’t leave me alone.

This is a great imaginative story of a journey and contest between two totally different and opposing worlds. Particularly, the love and the quest to serve justice to victims of violence or abuse, which is no wonder; reflects the author’s experience with survivors of domestic and sexual violence. There may be some other reasons to capture this story in rather a strange and mystical place such as Herrick’s End, but I strongly feel that; the author is trying to bring us to imagine and see that; there is a secretive, hidden, and unknown world that exists for the victims and survivors of such violence. Ollie Delgato’s journey from the Northern End of Brickside, all the way to the Herrick’s End of the Neath, shows us that; this secretive underworld or mystical place is created based on the constant struggle faced by victims of family-related violence and abuse. This constant struggle is the outcome of our society’s inactions, oppressions, insecurity, threat, or any other similar conditions that prevent justice to be served to those victims. He started off as an innocent, unsuspecting, and loving friend, but eventually grows to become a hero of justice at the end. This may, in other words, shows us that; many victims of family-related violence and abuses get themselves into these troubles innocently and unsuspectingly, because of love. They don’t know what will happen because they are blinded by love and then when their loving world becomes the opposite, they become its victims. A situation that they have created by themselves. But, under such circumstances, under that blind love and our society’s inactions, oppressions, insecurity, or threats; they can fight for justice, for themselves, and their loved ones, if they do something and take action. The settings of the contents of the book through the Prologue keep me wondering with interest how the initial ancient scenes will connect with the modern settings of the story when I started reading the first chapters. But as the story reaches the part on the Freedom Trail, I started getting the idea that; it will be the change of scenes into something mystical or ancient. If similar connections have been developed and established on the book chapters’ titles with specific story topics, rather than just the use of numbers, then I think it will be more engaging and well-connected. Yet, I give it a rating of 5 stars, because it is a great imaginative story that reflects the 2 types of worlds that exist for the victims of one of our society’s major social problems. One is the world that many may seem to portray to the public and the community in which they live under the auspice of normal and loving family life. And another is the world that exists under the banner of blind and unsuspecting love, where there is abuse and violence and where victims are constantly struggling for justice in solitude. A justice to problems, they have somehow created by themselves.

fragments of her shattered soul - potter molds anew diamond in the rough no more - tempered by the flames a strengthening of her spirit- the vessel made whole the angel walks on embers - angels feel no pain copyright L. G. Rogers 12-29-22

Sometimes I imagine teardrops, Small crystals upon your cheeks. I, poet, lover, would have to kiss Each one away, the flavor of Your passion, lingering Upon my lips, Filling me, Forcing me, To cry my tears, In form of loving words, Upon my lips. For you to kiss them too. - Donovan Baldwin

Note: The first poem I ever published. He was buried there by the mud bayou, At the bend where the green water curls, With the swing of a spade, A half-whispered prayer, And the tears of a heartbroken girl. The living splashed on through the water and mud Past the ghosts of the moss covered trees. With looks right and left, And hearts filled with fright, They waded past old cypress knees. They feared the cottonmouth, panther, and bear, They'd heard tales of the Indian tribes, But one of their number Cared nothing for peril, Now widow, but short time a bride. They left no trace of the way they came, Nor marks of the way they went, No record behind Of the youth in the ground, Or the reason his life had been spent. Somewhere in bayous where the green water bends Lies a man left behind long ago. Who he was, why he died, Who prayed, and who wept, Are the secrets of the mud bayou. Copyright Donovan Baldwin Published April 1982 in The Archer, now defunct. (Not my fault, I hope.)

Man uses wood without seeing The spark inside the living being The flowing sap and tender core Cleansing air, water and more    Below the soil, symbiotic truth mycorrhizal web joined at root mutualistic defenses to defend Attacks from pests and pathogens Arboreal beings who share the earth Forgive us humans, huddled at hearth Warmed and lighted in the dark Grateful for your endless bark  If we could only see your face And share in your collective space That binds all trees; holds them tight To withstand, withhold and stand upright I gaze in awe below your dome In woods that circle my own home I pray you feel me standing here  With everlasting love… for trees Susan Smoter - Octiber 7, 2023

It's not the color of your lips, It's what they have to say, If your eyes be blue, green, or brown I'd love you anyway. The color of your skin, Also matters not to me, Nor the type of clothes you wear, Tight bound or fancy free. You can have the biggest bust, Or one that's rather small, I'm not just going to love that part, I hope to love you all. Your bottom can be curvy, Or perhaps a trifle flat, That's fine because, you see my love, That's not what I'm looking at. Fashion says how you should look, If a fool, you heed and listen, But, when I hold you in my arms, It won't be "fashion" that I'm kissin'. I want a woman in my arms, Who just wants to be right there. When it comes to height or weight, I can't say I really care. Age is not a factor, Nor if you have much wealth. Although I must admit, that I have a thing for health. If you can hug me tightly, After I've acted like an ass, Then open up your arms for me, And become my charming lass. • Donovan Baldwin

Where leads this beckoning road, This silent, time-worn street? Does it lead to secret places, where Angels and demons meet? Or, does it fade with forward steps, And slowly cease to be? Perhaps it reaches unknown lands, Which I am doomed to never see. Yet I cannot long each road ignore, Nor allow my steps to turn, From each strange path to somewhere, And something I must learn. • Donovan Baldwin

One night the moon shone down on me, As I sat upon the sand at water's edge. She asked, for the Moon is a lady, "Why do you sit here all alone?" I replied, "I love someone very far away." "Then tell her," the Moon said, gently. I shook my head, as a cloud crossed The sky, and the face, of the caring moon. "I cannot," said I, head bowed. "Duty binds me here too far away." A chill wind crossed the water, And, I shivered, with cold and loss. Warm Moon spoke, "My light will speak for you. i will shine down outside her home each night, With poems and messages of love you send, So, she, seeing me, will think of you." I asked, "How will she ever know, that, Your silver beams are messages of love, Sent by a humble poet?" I asked in doubtr. Moon smiled brightly at my lack of faith. "She will know," sweet Moon replied, "She already knows my beams are love. until now she did not know from whom." One night the Moon, said this to me. • Donovan Baldwin

If your heart could see beyond my words, If they were to mean more to you than Mere strokes and curves on paper, And, became strokes, and curves On your skin, would your heart Beat ever faster, your breast Rise and fall with hope and Desire, the need to once Be truly loved, be held By more than words, Within loving arms Of one who now Holds love's Pen? • Donovan Baldwin