"Accolades For Valor" by Matthew Johnson (1993): "She goes through life, gliding, a benevolent seer/ Stopping constantly to aid those in need, those not even dear/ I, an individual, swept up in the storm/ Of a woman, who, in search of herself, defies the norm/ As I, an outcast, fighting myself, yet daring to believe/ That if I ask her aid and succor (and possibly love) she won’t leave/ Giving her heart, mind and soul to every known cause/ Causing me to look about my selfish malestrom, and in introspection give pause/ For all her words, she won’t write about me, does she fail to perceive/ What the object knows to be true and what make believe—/ Words rarely present, presence much more of one/ Is to wish for more as good as wishing for the sun?/ Energy is precious, as I know well to be true/ And I am curious to know, Lorraine, what I can ask of you/ Names are important, they make us who we are/ Much more important than people give credit, by far/ The masses may cry “Lori!” and let them do so!/ For the numbers who call that cannot understand/ They will never know the Lorraine inside, the one crying to live/ Will be forever frustrated by those whose minds are like a sieve/ There may be those who rob her of her world, let them scratch the skin/ They are as pinpricks to the steel within/ These accolades are not exaggeration, not pretentious/ I Just want you to know that there is at least one who is conscious/ That the world is a better place for the life of a woman named Lorraine."

Monday, December 26, 1994

My Adonis

My Adonis,
lay me down
on a bed of roses.
Unlace my gown.

Let me run my hands
over your chest.
Explore my body
with a gentle caress.

My Adonis,
stare into my eyes.
Lay close until pleasure
flows down our thighs.

Grab my breasts.
Rub around.
Make me lost
in being found.

My Adonis,
I feel you rise.
Into the sunset,
We'll now ride.


Oh, how I miss
the closeness we share;
the intense heat
when the passion flares.

My Adonis,
lay me down
on a bed of roses,
pleasure bound.

December 26, 1994