The Vampire Queen


She comes to me in my dreams.
The strange, beautiful Vampire Queen.
With eyes so strange and cold.
The iris the color of polished gold.


Her pupils of jet black coal.
Peering straight into my soul.
Her skin the sheen of iceberg white.
Glowing with an electric blue light.


With hair like an ocean of black.
Spilling down and caressing her back.
An aquiline nose from a polished face.
High cheekbones form her perfect base.


She smiles at me a flashing white.
A row of scimitars in the night.
Looking at me from her gold chair.
She levitates wingless into the air.


A dark zephyr whirling and sighing.
She whispers to me of  life undying.
Her gold eyes flashing she wraps around me.
I stand mesmerized unable to see.


Afraid of what she’s doing to me.
I perceive things not meant to see.
An enchantress of the highest kind.
She weaves her magic in my mind.


She says she will spare my soul tonight.
If I promise to treat her right.
I promise to see her each month she decrees.
No wives, girlfriends, or companions for me.


She’s made my life an unending time line.
Our meetings span the gulfs of time.
Alone with her throughout the eons.
She’ll not let me go from beyond.


Her dark phantom land.
She offers me her pale white hand.
Adorned with a strange gold band.
A hand that’s touched by no mortal man.


I fear her no more, which makes her smile.
A dark flashing beauty there’s no denial.
I fear I’m lost to this witch supreme.
Her ministrations to me alone in my dreams.


Had I married a mortal wife.
Might have filled me with grief and strife.
This dark phantom companion of mine.
Has been faithful till the end of time.

Dave Proffitt

















 I met her one day putting flowers on a grave.
Tears from her eyes, but still kind and brave.
Her hands shaking as she picked up the flowers.
Smiling at me the cemetery was ours.

I walked over to this old heart.
I had finished doing my part.
Of showing respect for my loved ones.
She said to me, “for my husband and sons.”

 “Ten years ago I lost them in the towers.”
“Ten years ago I lost my family within  hours.”
She puts her hand to the headstone for support.
As anguish sigh and a sob of a sort.

Her pain cuts through my heart and soul.
And the tears down her cheeks did roll.
I look into her ancient eyes.
And I see the pain as she cries.

So  I lift this woman up to her feet.
And I hold her while the emotions deplete.
“My name is Louise” she says as she tries.
Smiling through ancient tear-stained eyes.

Smiling at me I feel their presence.
Her gaze upon me in pleasance.
“I am Dave” I say to her smiling.
My presence to her here beguiling.

And so that day we became friends.
And we’d meet when she had a story to pen.
For Louise was a writer you see.
Stories of humanity for you and me.

And I made her laugh and smile.
And she made me see things worthwhile.
And we would meet at a park.
And we’d talk until it got dark.

Then one day Louise did not come to the park.
And the clouds rolled in and the sky became dark.
A man came to my door the next day.
“Louise is sick and they took her away.”

He told me as a darkness passed over his face.
The darkness came in and took his place.
And it passed over from the sky to the sea.
And I felt as if something were taken from me.

I found Louise in a hospital room.
Some friends around her in the gathering gloom.
I went to her and she saw who I was.
I saw a flicker of recognition in her because.

Of our life’s part.
Of what’s in our hearts.
And she smiled at me.
Through tears I’m trying to see.

Her sweetness tugging at the corners of her eyes.
Her life ran down as time flies.
“Dave, they have come for me.”
She smiles saying she’s free.

And now I see death standing at her side.
Gather ’round the bed with your lanterns wide.
And so I asked death if to me he would defer.
And he said to me “I choose her.”

And she became to us all as divine grace.
And I watched as life slipped from her face.
Eyes still smiling at me then she tilts her head.
I watch as h
er last breath escapes her bed.

And Louise went silently into the night.
And the night wrapped around us so tight.
And my tears and the pain would not stop.
Beating down  upon me with all the rain drops.

 I still stop by the park and sit on the bench.
Sometimes it’s raining and I get drenched.
But I don’t feel the wet or the cold.
And Louise to me was neither young nor old.

A woman who taught me things in life.
A poor woman’s story of strife.
Still I’m richer for knowing her.
For talking with her.

For loving her.
For she was my friend.
And we are all richer  even just for one friend.
Friend’s  story from beginning to end.

Dave Proffitt
3:02 am