There are so many poems that i could add here that either touch me in some way or another, or that my Darling Master has written

i am not sure where to start with these so i think i will add a few links and tell you dear reader that if you wish more of my Masters work, you can find all his poems on his priavte site linked about.


Slow Dance
To a Rose
Three Roses
Deep Inside me
A gift
How can i prove?

What Heart is Held.
Consent Exchanged



A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself. What one can be, one must be.
--Abraham Moslow


 The WeatherPixie

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.
Edgar Allan Poe

Poetry, i can't write it to save my life, i am a picture person expressing my feelings through graphics but Master can and does.. and with His permission i would like to add a few of his D/s poems to this section. His full works can be found in his own site, you can find a link in the left side navigation bar.

Other pieces are those i have come across and find that they touch me for various reasons so i shall include some of those also.

Sleep, sweet cleo
Fear not
Your darkest dreams.
For I will guard you
When it seems
Defences fall away.
Relax and rest
Until your mind
Has purged the worst
Of thoughts placed there
By those who do not care.

And I will wait.
As cleo sleeps
I marvel at her innocence,
And kiss her lips.
She turns, and sighs
So fragile like a child
Just born.
Sleeps safely as I
Hold her in my arms, this
My duty till the dawn

©Master Gharlane

So delicate oft in pleasant sunlight waits
As lovely as the blossoms by the picket gate
She is the glory in the summer's garden show
A fragrance that is heady yet, quite slow
Insinuates into the senses deep
And leaves a memory that this mind can keep
Of wondrous days in warming midday sun
And blissful evenings spent in one to one
And everlasting yet her fragrance stays
Inside my mind supportive in the days
When I am not with her the scent is still
My Kentish Maid, has made me yet fulfilled

©Master Gharlane


Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.
--Jean Anouilh



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