Now on tap.  Thirsty?

Just a word of explanation. The poetry contained here is all mine. It was written in connection with a vampire novel I am still in the process of writing, called Blood Relations. The names in the credits for these pieces are the names of the characters in my book. If you steal all or part of these, may they track you down . . .

[Night Wind] [Elena] [Thirst] [Night Flight] [In The Gloaming] [Blood] [Links] [To the bottom!]
Just a little batty.

For the wild at heart. . .


Come, my love, and take the wings of night
To catch the sprinkled stars along thy flight.
The high road,
The blood road,
From the world's beginning.
Come ride the wind with me
Until the stars are dimming.

Just a little batty.

Come run with me along the edge of heaven's fire
From the dawning of the night until its funeral pyre.
The high road,
The blood road,
From the world's beginning.
The wild way, the wind's way
With the gray wolves grinning.

Just a little batty.

Come fly with me, my love, and never tire
When the juice of life meets heaven's ire.
The red road,
The blood road,
From the world's beginning.
Come taste of life! Come fear no death
Until the stars are dimming!

by Elena Alecsandri. Printed by permission.
(December 10, 1993; Evaonne F. Hendricks)

[To the top!] [Elena] [Thirst] [Night Flight] [In The Gloaming] [Blood] [Links] [To the bottom!] [Night Wind]

Imagine being married for over four hundred years. That's true love!


Wrinkled parchment, yellowed lace,
Time-worn pearls, buttons, hooks,
Satin skirts whispering with worn hems,
Age within the ageless face
Shown only in the artless grace,
The knowing smile, composed, serene,
Of one whose nights are filled with life
And days spent deep in sleep's embrace.

Youthful in each curve and dip
From cheek and eye to swaying hip,
Beside the fire she sits and knits,
Warm wool between her fingertips.
She remembers blood and rain,
Pleasure, joy, sorrow, pain,
Wild nights running with the wolves,
Or flying with me over the plain.

The youthful body, childlike grace;
The dancing lightness of her steps;
Belie the years we both have lived.
Though now she dresses not in lace,
Satin, silk, or antique pearls,
Still it is thus I see her now
Whenever I dream of her by day
While wrapped, content, in her embrace.

Elena: Lover, fairy-light,
Yet stronger than the steel of swords;
Mind to mind and soul to soul,
Heart to heart together bound.
Bound together, yet as free
As eagles dancing on the wind;
And thus I hope it well may be
For us, for all eternity.

by Nicolas Alecsandri. Printed by permission.
(March 26, 1994; Evaonne F. Hendricks)

[To the top!] [Thirst] [Night Flight] [In The Gloaming] [Blood] [Links] [To the bottom!] [Night Wind] [Elena]

Don't cry over spilled blood.

. . . and sometimes it just seems like this.


Dinning thunder of your heartbeat
Pulsing here beneath my lips
Telegraphs along the length
Of veins from neck to fingertips.

Heart that calls, I cannot answer
Trapped so deep in sleep's embrace.
Your incessant measured knocking
Cannot stir me from my place.

Torturer! Have you no mercy?
Cease, now! Let me sleep the day!
No, the tolling instrument
Of torment timpanist must play.

Siren, must you lure me further?
You invade my every dream.
Raging rush of carmine liquid
Drowns me, parched, within its stream.

How to bid him cease his thunder?
Stop him? You will cease to be.
That, unless you join the blood-dance
Tooth to neck, both you and me.

Dare I do it? Would you join me
Thirsting through eternity?
But what difference? After yours
Another heart would beat for me.

Still, the blood-dance never ceases;
Drummers leave, the dance remains.
Hearts will cease; the drummer drumming
Slack his pace and stop--in vain.

Dinner-gong! Do you not know
You call me from my silent bed?
Every evening, never ceasing,
I must hasten to be fed.

Caution drives me to another
Lest your earthly clock I stop;
Drain the cup and crush the bottle
Savoring each velvet drop.

Nay! Stop beating quite so loudly!
Torturer! I'll not thus doom
Another victim to my sentence
Roaming in eternal gloom.

Don't cry over spilled blood.

Quickly! Lest the madness take me,
Flee from me, I thee implore.
I will seek another's treasure,
Plundering its liquid store.

Do not seek me out in daylight;
Do not seek me out at night.
I will hunt another lover
For my thirst and my delight.

Someday we may meet at dusk,
Or, maybe we will meet at dawn;
But now to save you from my fate,
My love, I fear I must move on.

by Petru Alecsandri. Printed by permission.
(August 17, 1994; Evaonne F. Hendricks)

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Just a little romance. Even we know love . . .

Night Flight

Brush back the clouds from the moon's face.
Let the white lady see.
Dance on the wind with me, lady, my love.
Come frolic! Come flying with me!

Put down that book! You can read it
Come eternity!
Tonight is a night--it's a moon night my love!
Come dancing and frolic with me!

Just a little batty.

I want you beside me at nightfall,
On the wild wind of the night;
Shards of the moonlight and white lace on waves.
Come dancing; come join me in flight!

by Cedric Alecsandri. Printed by permission.
(September 2, 1994; Evaonne F. Hendricks)

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A ballad. There's music to this, but I don't have the means here. You'll just have to listen to me sing it someday:

In The Gloaming

With my lover I will meet
Merry, in the gloaming.
Love will run on fairy feet
And in his arms go roaming.

If any tell my father dear,
Or tell my worried mother,
They would forbid my love's embrace
And bid me love another.

Why? Why? Don't ask me why
I love him more than ever.
Fly! Fly! Away I'll fly
With him I'll spend forever.

His eyes can see in darkest night.
No sword can e'er defeat him.
He loves me more than life itself.
I'll gladly run to meet him.

He sleeps away the daylight hours
And wakes when dusk has fallen.
When all is still I slip away
For I can hear him callin'.


I love them all, my family dear
I have no wish to grieve them.
They say his kiss will bring me death,
But I could ne'er believe them.

Tonight I'll take the garden path
And meet him in the gloaming
Before tomorrow's dawn is here
With him I'll go a roaming.


(April 23, 1997, by Evaonne F. Hendricks)

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Just checking the fridgeFor Dizzy, who wanted more blood.

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Don't get too close!  I may have evening mouth!Wake up and smell the plasma!
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My thanks to Carolyn Rosado, who let me use her "bloodbar" graphic found above. I list her site in my links site.

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