Brought To You



Brought To You

I brought to you this aging shell
these fragile remains of a woman
a bruised psyche, damaged heart
who innocently gave all for nothing

a spirit long ago defeated
whose hopes all lay wounded
bleeding like a dying animal
into a dark abyss of pain

I brought to you forgotten dreams
of candlelit dinners, garden strolls
ocean wave kisses on virgin shores
and moon misted nights of passion

my old soul, seeking yours
gifting what is left of me
to all that is left of you
resurrecting dead desires

I brought to you my hungry eyes
empty arms, pregnant possibilities
fearing to believe….until certain
that you cherished all I had brought








poets are just people, people who
openly expose their souls to the world
and seek no justification for it
when the world thinks them too open

poets are people who notice and articulate
things that many other people ignore
or deem as too unimportant
to cast a lingering glance upon or capture
in emotions given up to pen and page

poets are the dreamers and fools
yet they are the true realists of life
embracing pleasure and pain in their depths
poets are uniquely connected to divinity

Not Yet Broken


there was a time, how long ago, how long ago

I wore a white summer dress, dotted swiss

and a necklace with one small pearl pendant

a daisy chain crowned my long, copper hair

nails painted a pale pink, no lipstick, blusher

no stockings over my tanned legs, barefooted

when no one was looking, white low heel shoes

left on the creek-bank, I cautiously waded into

muddy, cold water, Mama warned me to avoid

barefooted, tender-footed, young and foolish

bare-hearted, ripe for the summer harvest

curves blossoming, imagination searching

foolish little girl anxious to become a woman

would that I had worn burlap and covered

long legs with tights and fair face with veils

better to have died young and never known

the wonders and abuses of wasted womanhood

there was a time, how long ago, how long ago

when laughter flowed spontaneously from lips

that had never been kissed and hope overflowed

from a naive heart that had not yet been broken



By La Belle Rouge

your scent lingers……
a nuance of clean linen and spice
a reminder of the passion shared
long after our secret rendezvous
I can still smell your body wash
on my skin and thigh high stockings
folded away with sheer black lingerie
until the next time I wear lace for you

intimate reveries……
of a sensitive but masculine face
kiss of your lips, caress of your hands
still wrapping my skin in your essence
causing my heart and body to twinge
with need of you, after you’re gone
I will live with that memory each day
and die with your name alone on my lips


La Belle Rouge

My First Poem


My First Poem

By La Belle Rouge

day one of a new year is almost over

hours have escaped, I know not where

nor why humanity must be slaves to time

I’m reminded of the brevity of our days

has it been only a flickering moment ago

my body was young, my face unlined

and no silver mingled in my copper hair?

seems so long ago now that men’s eyes

filled with appreciation, women’s with envy

when I sauntered into a room of strangers

was it but a breath ago my sweet babes

nestled at my breasts, kissed my cheeks

with innocent voices called me “mommy”

who now with deep tones call me “mom”?

time where have you rushed away to travel

and why have you robbed me of so much?

why was love so slow to embrace my soul

too late for youthful strength and dreams?

oh, time you are a cruel master, a jokester

one who delights in carrots teasing noses

impossible situations, trying of old souls

separations of nearest and dearest love

forcing me to live wasted weeks, months

long wasted days of yearning and boredom

days that morph into lonely nights and seem

to drag on and on without sensible meaning

this is my first poem at another year’s dawn

hope is all I have to hold onto another year

1/1/2015 LBR

My Last Poem


Art ” Dance at Bougvalde” By Renoir

My Last Poem By

By  La Belle Rouge

I’m penning my last poem….of the old year

tomorrow I’ll pen the first poem of the new

what will the new year hold? sorrow, joy?

only God and his true prognosticators know

this year was one of the worst I’ve spent

but the best year of my life because of you

I’ve suffered sickness, sadness, hopelessness

I’ve plummeted down to the depths of darkness

you’ve pulled me up with loving eyes and hands

you’ve been my constant support in a fickle world

you have loved me for who I am, not what I give

yours is the only unselfish love but God’s, I know

so I dedicate this old year to you, My Love and

this last poem it will witness from my poet’s pen

you have made this year the best year of my life

above all negatives our love has risen and thrives

the new year will bring us even closer together

wherever it ends it will find me still loving you

12/31/2014 LBR

Real Love



Real Love

By La Belle Rouge


it was real, so genuine it pierced my heart

with the quick strength of a searing. steel knife

heated by your fervor to cauterize my wounds

oh yes, there were wounds, too many to count,

there were deep scars and spots still too tender

to ever expose them to another soul, no never

all inflicted by what I once thought was forever

soon blown away by winds of adversity, abuse,

until I knew I did not, could not, love anymore

feeling there was nothing to wait for, to live for,

until I tasted sweetness of your true devotion

before I had even tasted the ardor of your lips

I am newborn in flames of such authentic love

damaged growth pruned away by healing hands

new limbs reach toward love’s tangerine sun


oh God, I did not know love could hurt so deeply

heal so efficiently, mystify and satisfy completely

there is a forever kind of love, we have found it

your are the part of me that was missing until now

you are the one my heart sings and dances for

beneath fierce waterfalls where deserts once lay

feminists say I am complete without a man’s love

I am too much woman to believe such nonsense

I never felt full, whole, until you gave me your love

never felt the completion of my body until we joined

this is unending dedication of heart, soul and body

I want to live with my hand in yours, all my days

when my days are finished I want to die in your arms

peacefully leaning on the shoulder that supports me

through all the joys and sorrows of a lifetime together


LBR 12/29/2014