For those who prefer real time updates: @mylenwyd on Twitter

Some of the poetry combined with images at


Zenfolio (which also powers this homepage) limits the amount of text
one can put on a mainly image-oriented site. So you'll find hereunder some
of my favourite poems and in English only. All my poetry - including further

English as well as French, German and some Spanish and Italian items - I continue
to publish on Twitter under the
@mylenwyd handle. Thank you for coming over!



Oppressive heat, the concrete boiling,

the air in waves as if a surf,

the city burning into me.



Blue hour after heat and rain,

the air so fresh as if in spring:

a good night now to go for good.



Alone without you, solitude within:

you're so full of presence,

a sparkle to life.



Golden light sweetens the dusk,

ev'ning relents to cede to the night:

gone is my love, and I yearn for respite.


When it's me to go, it'd be like this:

beads of rain, perish'd for good ...



Raindrops kissing tenderly

leaves while broken in their fall:

last caress before they perish ...



Softly in your dreams

the grey light of the morning

touches now your hair.


Blinds painting shadows on an empty pillow -

I still feel your hair, guess your scent:

Whether we parted for good we'll know but in the end.



Her body dripping as she rises,

her hair now clinging to her breasts,

her eyes so fiery: dawn of time ...



Dissolving contours into patches:

blue hour ceding kingdom to the night;

solitary tones a'drift in fading light ..


Train doors closing in our face,

your eyes not leaving mine:

you are the one, despite the space.


Like animals, by equal measure

he and she not wont to give:

the waste of dawn betrays their pleasure.



Her lustrous skin: almost forgotten;

her fragrant body: distant past;

her gentle touch as if not true.



Rain across the fields of soul,

a smould'ring heart ablaze in steam:

mind's agony before the peace ...



Midnight past, the rain a'pourin',

greys and blacks in chase of blues:

my mind at rest, despite the hour.



A soft breeze stroking the reeds

into a solitary lullaby:

the falling dusk resonating dry ...



The morning rain a quiet promise

of summer scents at noon ...



Twilight pours into the room,

soft rain on leaves outside,

a dawn for no tomorrows ...


When the soil's all soaked so the water seeps out: such is real beauty ... never merely atop.



Elusive beauty, you inspire

searing lust, and burning pain,

a passionate life without respite ...



Back on soil which tells our lives,

I long for you to share: I feel

too weak to love you less.


The secret garden of my life,

where heart is light, the head still lighter,

and beauty reigns serene ...



The rolling hills of my youth - 

a sight I return to behold, 

refreshing my heart and my soul.



My fingertips on skin so soft

to make herself forgot, 

but then her scent will not.



The last of her pictures gone up in flames,

the last of her memories but in my mind now

autumn's the balm to put my heart to rest.



Blue hour's close, the lights are dim,

the city heat a heavy weight 

on hearts wide open to the night ...



To learn to love you sans desire,

to want you but without an urge,

to wait for you as if all time.



Friend without the lover.

Lover without the passion.

Passion without madness.

Madness without the rush.



Knowing the love of your life

with the love of their life - 

whose life will you get on with?



Sunset's touch to velvet greens,

blue hour's kiss to silent waters,

nightfall's strangling my lonely soul ...



An eye lash clinging to your cheek

where tears have now run dry:

do not despair, my love, I'll seek

from you not farewells, just good-byes.



She casts a spell I'm loath escaping,

an aura I would yearn to keep

as close as skin, yet is so fleeting ...



Fine amusement curls the corners of her lips, the sentiment reaching to ignite a sparkle in her eyes: she's seen it all in life, for sure ..



A slender limb splits through her shift, arms stretched out in noble welcome; yet eyes a dare to sweep her off and carry yonder



In wintry nights the moon pours light as gently as a silk caress, relieved then by the morning sun as hoary frost and dawn progress ...



First light seeping through the grove, dawn patrol now nearly done: purveyor of beauty, morning sun ...



Strings of pearls are flowing down the silken valley of your breasts, swashing over mounds and tips when idly you turn over ...



A flame in distant, far'way land, a mountain not for man to conquer; an inner kingdom for the chosen, the ear the eye to feel the scent.



Every day and every hour, every time I take a breath, I see you there and can't but wonder ...



A passion without resistance, a love that has no defense, a yearning without hope for redemption ...



Pale blue light of weakened hours projecting shadows soft on walls: simple myths for timeless ages.



Enfolded in burgundy, crowned in curled red,

bejewelled in glitter and stockinged in black:

oozing her passion from toes up to neck.



A simple blue dress hugs her curves,

lacy black silk underneath stretched taut

by globes too plainly striking else



The melancholy of leaving,

the sorrow of good byes:

old friends I'd rather keep.



When beaut'ful things come to an end we add the mem'ries to our heart and 'joice in looking for th' beyond ...


For those who prefer real time updates: @mylenwyd on Twitter

Some of the poetry combined with images at