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Monthly Archives: May 2017

This Time We Spend In Sigh

This age, this time we spend in sigh,
years which youth oft hadn’t wrought,
this path which now leads us nigh;
we savor moments, lessons taught.

At last, the journey comes this far,
the revelrie, children wild at play,
now all but shades of valiant spar;
to savor this night, to share this day.

Such peace, both of flesh and mind,
to taste the wind, and kiss the night,
‘ere stars burn on, and moon is kind;
to live this breath, our souls in flight.

What ease, a blanket age well sewn,
but soft, her flesh, the only weight,
her beauty dear, her love is known;
that with each breath, we thus elate.

At rest, slumber ‘neath sheltered eve,
stars are counted, ‘ere clouds remain,
nothing lost, thus, none shall grieve;
no dreams e’er know a scar of rain.

‘Ere I, and she, the stars, and sky,
this masquerade, our pageant made,
to know not how, nor wonder why;
as flesh enfolds, all wan does fade.

 
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Posted by on May 25, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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‘Twas Your Eyes

‘Twas your eyes
taught me vision,
to see beyond
the infinite horizon,
and peer deeper
into the human heart
than had e’er
been known before
to find that mine
had been with yours,
serene, all along.

‘Twas your lips
taught me sigh,
heat without regret,
to speak the words
which only my heart
‘eretofore understood,
but now, with ease,
speak I to you
that which once
was but dreaming,
now becomes a kiss.

‘Twas your hands,
enfolded with mine,
taught me this serenity,
that with your touch
too soft for molding,
did still my tremors,
and warm the tide
of questions yet to come,
how love does play,
as a gentle instrument,
upon my flesh, undying.

 
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Posted by on May 12, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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This Rose

This rose, it but has her eyes;
see how it folds its tenderest petals,
shielded shy from glaring sun,
as it whispers its sad goodbyes.

This rose, it but has her lips;
see how it blushes in moonlight,
and wets itself by the dawn,
as it begs caress of sultry tips.

This rose, see how it doth cry;
tho’ not in tears, but in silken sway,
as she wept with her final woe,
and breathed her farewell sigh.

This rose, see how it doth fade;
petal by petal, in its dying breath,
as she did shatter from herself,
to fall apart, wanton, waylaid.

This rose, see now withered prime;
as her heart was emptied long ago,
and ‘ere upon her grave, a trace,
this rose, faded before her time.

 
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Posted by on May 10, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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And You, The Reasons Why

E’er, I walk with her always, my love,
thru’ all our treasured moments shared.

And within our hearts, a conversation,
‘ere both questions and answers play.

“My love, why do you walk behind me?”
she asks, with her face turned to mine.

“I follow your heart, ‘ere it may lead,
that I am your sun, and you, my day.”

“My love, why do you walk beside me?”
she asks, with her hand so soft and warm.

“I equate my life to your soul’s keep,
and share with you each step I take.”

“My love, why do you walk before me?”
she asks, with her pace quickening still.

“I forge our path, that you may be safe,
and prepare our journey for your sake.”

“My love, why do you carry me now?”
she asks, with her eyes as liquid pools.

“I hold your heart, your soul, and life,
and revel then in your weightless ease.”

“My love, why do you hold me so close?”
she asks, with her breath staining my lips.

“I cannot endure a moment without you,
because you are the very air I breathe.”

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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This Mistress Sky

I taste the wind upon my tongue;
my mouth agape, I am yet amazed,
that I should witness vast parade,
a play of stars, now drawn in woe.

“It is cry,” sings wind to my ear;
how long these tears have stained,
that the sky has breath, this wind,
yet her eyes weep, weathered tho’.

“Speak to me tales of sweet rain,”
I spoke to sky, as if she heard;
how long her eyes held their gaze,
did I but tremble with her plea.

Night falls soft. Her eyes, weary;
“Sleep, dear sky, none with tears,”
my voice splayed in worded caress,
“wrap me in night, sleep is free.”

I see not stars, but starless gaze;
she has braved herself to my needs,
like a serenade of light and dark,
she sings with wind, now in voice.

I could’ve slept long, save light;
she has journeys I’ve yet to take,
my Mistress sky of winsome curves,
she awaits, wanton, by her choice.

 
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Posted by on May 8, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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Not Merely Of Stars

For she, who was but once unmade;
for she, who gave first fire to stars.

Her kisses sweet as angels’ breath;
her wounds deep as ocean depths.

For she, swelled not merely of stars,
but of placid sky, and o’er horizons.

By silk and soul is she made complete,
and gives me leave again to breathe.

O’, how boldly she does requite love
to earth and sky, as they redeem her.

Let songs be sung of her emerald kiss,
those lips which laid waste to my mind.

O’, treasured arches of her silken bow,
let this flesh be her wage of submission.

 
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Posted by on May 4, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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When Youth Of Summer Begins

When youth of summer begins
its seduction upon the soul,
warming my hands in folly,
transient as it may be to hold,
yet too weak to grasp at stars;
sky lays siege to the horizon,
and e’en this blade of grass,
still wet from a morning rain,
may but seem more like a rose
o’er this droll, barren earth;
that with its greening shimmer,
shall I then breathe more freely
this mere serenity I am allowed
on such a blessed summer’s day.

 
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Posted by on May 4, 2017 in My Poetry

 

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