My book of poetry is available to buy on Amazon, just follow this link...
All artwork: Written Or Visual is COPYRIGHTED;
to Jewel MoonSilver Knight, aka NocturneJewel.
DO NOT repost, claim, alter, sell, redistribute, make layouts, create avatars. NOTHING!!! without my EXPRESSED WRITTEN PERMISSION
RESPECT ME AND MY ART...
I am a prolific pagan poet and have over 1000 poems. I love rainy days and thunderstorms at night. My favorite season is Autumn, it is so full of color and beauty, inner reflection and subtle wisdom. I love the night, it is then I get most inspired and write the majority of my poetry. I have a close relationship with nature, especially reptiles. I have quite a large reptile family at home which includes nineteen geckos, seven snakes, and twelve tarantulas. They are my family. I get such a pure feeling of fulfillment from being with my reptile family.
Besides reptiles, my favorite animals are bats and owls. I also have several tattoos and piercings. My very first tattoo were vampire bite marks on my neck. I love them.
The beautiful has written a review of me as a writer. I am so honored! So this is what she has to say about my writing style:
~NocturneJewel is an intensely prolific poet, and in reading just a sampling of her work, you quickly come to realize that to be a prolific poet with work of such vision and depth is a great achievement indeed. Her style may be unusual, but it is all hers, and she is nothing but proud. Each line blends seamlessly into the next, and the fluid rhythm and potent imagery weave together into a tapestry of literary enchantment.
Current Residence: The Dark Side of the Moon
Favourite genre of music: Celtic, New Age, Nature, Goth
Favourite style of art: Nocturnal
Shell of choice: Home
Skin of choice: Reptilian
Personal Quote: Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken.
Comfort me always
With your heart and soul
Embrace me tightly
And never let me go
Surround me with your presence
So I'll never be alone
Blanket me with your emotions
So I'll never get cold
Envelope me with tender care
In my times of sickness
Shelter me with concern
And keep me safe
Enclose me with your gentleness
When I am filled with sorrow
Lavish me with kindness
So I know you understand
Intoxicate me with your words
So I know your heart
Entangle me with actions
So I know your loving ways
Reinforce me with your strength
When I'm feeling weak and weary
Cover me with your sweetness
So that I never turn bitter
Drown me with kisses
From your lips of affection
Consume me with caresses
So I never forget your touch
Suffocate me with all of you
Believe me I don't mind
Smother me with all your love
For it keeps my heart alive
Serenity's AngelI am she, Serenity...
Thou knowest not my beauty.
But if ye sought the face of the Lord
surely, I would come to thee.
My wings are bound and chained
to fly, only, unto the sincere
whom have searched with the angels
of Patience, and Mercy, and Truth,
for the key to my seal.
I reside not, in the halls of vexation,
nor do I, neighbor with wrath.
I know only the ways, of love and justice
and all they of whom, such qualities hath.
I flyest through the beginings
unto the ends of the earth; my candle
an eternal flame.
Given to me of the Lord
seek His face
and share my name.
Pencils and StarsSo I went
I went to the place of writing
Of dribs and drabs and
Pencils writing stars
And we could talk
Of stars and pencils
And how they have
Light in common.
But I went to this place
Her past has barred me from
The wild woman with
Burning down the bridges
Sowing the ground with salt
So all I find when
I try to make my way back
Are charred black edges
Rivers uncrossable and poisoned
And salty ground.
There is nothing living
That way anymore.
I think about
How I just say it
Pencils and stars
And I think that
Coloring is the only solution.
The Envelope The envelope remembers
where and how,
the poem was written.
Maybe not its beginning
or even its ending,
but certainly and always its meaning.
my eroded memory fails,
… these days…
White pale beacon, it stands
a safe limestone shore between,
the wavy seas and the middle-lands.
Unlocking time and distance
leading back to it, all of my vagabond sails,
weaved mix of erratic words and ancient dreams.
Images flash with an undeniable brilliance
no longer a perishing sun in twilight rain,
but my own soul, whole… again.
White SparrowsWhite sparrows fly
through the stained glass cathedrals
of my shattered dreams
the sound echoes the walls
so cold and monastic whilst darkness falls
while a tapestry of delusions burn
and claims forever, the sun
leaving over the horizon
the ghost shadow of a unicorn
© copyright of KAY MARCH - All Rights Reserved.
Kamilla and the Harlequin.But some walk the sunlit way
in honeyed warmth to pluck the flower.
Yet, I know only winter's dark decay
that soft attends the final hour.
Kamilla lies alone in bed
listening to the rain
falling from mute heaven
to trickle down the drain.
Harlequin with his painted grin
walks each empty unlit street.
Blacker still the dark within
and the things he fears most to meet.
From somewhere in the distance
the sounds of joy and dance
reduced to one remaining laugh,
that lingers, dies. That one chance
of happiness, of meeting one's own soul.
Brief, missed, lost in circumstance.
Transient life, lived unwhole.
Then Harlequin attempts a song
but his voice remains unheard.
That bright light had seemed so wrong
and he steps to shadows without a word.
So, Kamilla cries alone in bed
her tears merging with the rain.
For her, life and love are dead
just blood trickling down the drain.
Yes, some live and smile the sunlit way,
honey warmth, to smell the sweet scent.
But others walk amidst the sweet decay