Thanks for creating our first group and I love the avatar!

Hello Lottie, what a wonderful idea for all us enchanted bookworms!
I really look forward to learning more...


Your, 'I collect too many books' friend,

Wow, I love the av! And books rock! Yay! Can't get enough. :D

Reading has always been a passion of mine, especially highly imaginative ones like the "Lord Of The Rings" trilogy. I love books that are filled with imagery and eloquence.

Greetings! I just signed on and I am glad I did so!

My first book of poetry was published this summer; the name of it is Rusty Typewriter and you can find it one the website of Foothills Publishing.



I am also the owner of the online bookstore Viridian Books (www.viridianbooks.com), the store for the strange and unusual reader. Although my site has a Goth slant, I am still a lover of all things Fae!



Here is one of my own poems for you to enjoy.



Absinthe Dreams to you all!

Kimberly






Sing to me, Oh Muse

Thou who hast given me life and breath to work,

Love, and play, to understand what it truly means

To be of colour and madness.

I want to be near you, woman of demon form,

To take me in your arms and kiss my chapped lips.

Let me feel you, be inside of you, hungry for nourishment

That only you can give to me –

Give me the right to see your face gaze away and up

Towards the stars that shine brightly like tears you brush away

From your eyes. This is no longer a dream

But a facet of my own existence, giving me a time

When I thought such desires were foolish and conceited.

I want to bury myself deep, blood rushing to my face

As I gasp for air but refusing it all the same.

I want you to love me, tease me and caress me.

Give me your blood so that I may paint

Give me your tongue so that I may write

Give me your soul so that I may dance in the groves planted by those

Who refused to see you until it was too late.

Die with me and live again so that I may know what it means to hurt.

Red, of violet tinged with dreams not shared

I rise from our bed, naked and reborn

Ready to greet the dawn, ready to face you once more,

My lips ready to nibble and kiss you, your back arching in response

As the warm flow begins, so I collect it in a chalice,

Forcing myself to drink your essence like a king racked with insanity

Of knowing who died before him.

My words are nothing before and will be nothing when you die

But for this moment, I ask you, do not let me die in vain.

Do not allow me to be like everyone else, for you know it to be a lie.

Do not allow this latest slave a chance at mortality.

I want what you have and soon it shall be mine

When the waters no longer flow but buckle and thrash

And the oceans turn read with blood I will spill for you.

Bitch maiden, mother, crone, and death

Thou hast seen my face and it is yours, yours, take me and deliver me

For my strings will soon be cut by Fate, triple of woman, she who is lost.

And all I can do is stand by and watch it burn away,

This longing,

This fear of dying well, fat, and normal, of grease made from pigs bathing in

Their own sweat, replacing the tears they lost to their children,

Circe, the woman, a maiden who cares not for what others think of her

So I shall be of you and through you,

My darling, my own instant.

A flower, prepared to whiter while the petals fall with a thud

My tongue tough and dry, awaiting your words to cool and soothe me

So it shall be done, so it shall be lost.

My eyes are red, puffy and sunken

Create a Picasso to true to be ignored.

And, of course, I shall ask of thee

To be my bride when I shall have nothing left.

My own flower, dipped in gold and weighed next to stones

Forgive me for the way I want to treat you.

In dying, so I understand, finally,

That I was not the only one

But rather the latest in a long line of sinners

Awaiting their own trial by a priest who has forgotten how to speak.

My own sentence shall be given, listening to the cries of the ones before me

My own chains, rotting my flesh while you stand by and watch. . . .and listen.

Perhaps, I think I should fall, slowly and gracefully

A discombobulating experience, an orgasm too real to be ignored

My body shaking with coughs, fits of a denial forever to me

And you, you who claim to love me, are alone too well.



10 August 2007