From the works of



The Shelter


Come to me, my weary love,
Let my arms surround your troubled soul.
No danger lies within these walls,
The night shadows cannot pass the door.

Come lay your head upon my breast
Tell me of your heart's lament
As with a touch all fears dissolve,
Your existence held in caring hands.

Come whisper to me your darkest dreams.
I will mine the magic hidden there
And show you treasures rich and deep,
Of unique pleasures, desires laid bare.

Then enter the shelter of the calm
That lays beyond all pain and grief.
Come slumber here, my little love.
I hold you safe within my heart.

PJ Dobbs
Jan-Oct, 1998

The Storm


In this moment
There is pain.
In this pain
There is love.
In this love
There is this moment.

In this touch
There is conquest.
In this conquest
There is freesom.
In this freedom
There is this touch

In this heart
There is caring.
In this caring
There is discipline.
In this discipline
In this discipline
There is this heart.

In this moment,
   This touch,
        This heart
There is this storm.
PJ Dobbs
Jan-Oct, 1998

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