Home sweet home of sound contentment,
of love spread throughout the rafters,
unity tightened as the bond holds firm,
mommy and daddy, the disciples of love,
the promoters of love, the cultivators of
the flow of love, and the models of
what love is, carrying out the
prescribed mission on earth by God,
 
as the devil sits and waits
for the right moment
for the bond to loosen,
when hearts and thoughts are redirected,
no longer to each other’s needs,
 
when hearts wander away
from each other’s keeping,
when intimacy is still pursued,
when the touch is an electric rapture,
when comfort is still a need,
when the thrill of sex still prevails,
when the old familiar words
are still desired to be heard,
the ones that drew man and wife
together at first when they saw heaven
inundated with fire, arrows, and stars
opening up and revealing its secrets,
its intoxicating smiles
and rhythmic thunder;
hence the desire to go back to those days
and revitalize that feeling again,
 
as the devil’s disciples sit and wait
to see the bond growing weak,
as they plot to replace the love,
a smoldering ember, with a new spark
to get the fire going again,
a fire that reaches into the loin
and spreads the devil’s venom.

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Robert L. Martin
3 months

I missed writing a poem yesterday and the day before. I finally wrote one today again. It's good to be back.

Nelson D Reyes
3 months

We just have to have a conversation with the devil over a good Italian espresso making sure that he is not talking to our good and good looking neighbor next door about the same thing. There are consequences!

Nice poem . I love it!. Thanks Robert. Are you on track to one poem at least a day, repeat this year? Looking forward to reading most of your 2020’s.

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Nelson D Reyes
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