Oct. 5th, 2016

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 I've been so busy lately I've not gotten to work on the manuscript as much as I would like. I have at least been able to do some poetry. Some still has to wait for the first peek on my Patreon. To become a patron and get first crack at things visit me at http://www.patreon.com/Amehana

The Hounds of Herne
Teresa Garcia
The nights are getting longer
The days are getting colder
Winter’s getting bolder
It’s tapping at our shoulder.
The year is getting older.
The Wild Hunt draws nigh
Careering through the skies
Which Court now passes by
As on their hunt they hie?
Soon, the year will die.
Bide with me a while yet
The rain falls so ever wet
And we are very well met
Beside this fire warmly set.
We’ll hide from their threat.
Hear ye now the wailing call
Of the wolves deep in His thrall.
Our Horned Hunter of darkest pall
Strides fearless through the squall
With his chosen transformed cabal.
Are ye darksome or are ye light,
Seelie or Unseelie, bringing blight?
Be ye wise this Samhain Night
As the Good Folk come to sight.
Say your prayers and hold tight.
When it’s time we too shall ride
With flaring cloak of night dyed
Beset with night’s starspangled tide
While loving mate waits and sighs
The prayers and songs of wulf’s bride.
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 Watchers on the Widow’s Walk
Teresa Garcia
October 4, 2016
Watchers on the Widow’s Walk
Strain at the iron railing
Calling with the heart and watching
Whispering prayers to the sea
Watchers on the Widow’s Walk
Scan the stormy seas
Waiting and counting out the days
Searching the hemline of the sea.
Watchers from the Widow’s Walk
Tread softly through the town
Picking up the groceries for men
Hoping to feed them once again.
Watchers from the Widow’s Walk
Kneel in the somber pews
Praying to those beyond that listen
Praying for the ships to come in
Watchers on the Widow’s Walk
Eventually fall from the eaves
Leaving life’s cloak tattered behind
Knowing at last what is done
Watchers on the Widow’s Walk
Prowl when the storm sighs
Caught ever here between
Those taken by the shifting sea.

Like this sort of thing, or any of my writing? Visit http://www.patreon.com/Amehana to find out how to get first look.
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 This poem finishes up the succubus related poems. I've not gotten to poking at the incubus yet to see what happens when opening the poetry door. One day long ago now after the first two succubus poems talk turned to what would happen if a succubus was disinterested and preferred coffee. I finally got to get to that suggestion.

Hopefully soon I get back to better progress on my manuscript as the moving settles down. Soon we'll be fully in our new house.

Coffee is Better
Teresa Garcia
October 4, 2016
The night stretches warm and bright
Where I curl up for the night
Thin fingers round about my cup
While the gentle steam rises up
With the smell so soft and warm
I love how it rises up my form.
I settle in with my delicious brew
Then some jackass calls to me to do
That stuff that my kind feeds upon
Expecting me to run eager, anon.
I just want my blasted coffee
Maybe make me a cup then I’ll see.
Needy musk fills up my nose
Raising me up on my toes…
Stamping down temptation’s notes
I shake my head and ignore his woes.
Give me my damn dark coffee
That’s really all this one needs.
Sure, my sisters really like men
Stalk them in dreams and then den
But a Potioneer shared a little trick
And honestly I think it sticks
Though he likes when I come by
He gets cute ideas, and I sigh.
You know, I’ve got a brain
More than that little stain
You men leave upon the sheets
When I’m done with your heat
I’ve even got a lovely name
I guess thought is your bane
Coffee doesn’t use me just for fun
And to be hissed about? I’m done.
You want relief in the night?
Make me a cup, then I might.
And really, you’re quite bad in bed
Why don’t you build yourself up instead?

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