breathes the night comes the day

Stars upon eternity as the night envelops your soul
caresses you with the intimacy of silk sheets upon a weary survivor
the dawn far to come and only the sound of somber are heard:
as the midnight owl perches to wait my soul perches upon your heart’s gate
intertwined within the depths of nocturne solitude is the accompaniment of peace
as the night creeps away I return to lie on common sheets
as every breath of the minutes passing say your name
I retire to a slumber to be with thee once again

self examination of a hopeless romantic

I can’t help but be a hopeless romantic, to see the depths of the hues upon the fallen pedals as they lay upon the loam of a kept garden, to hear fantasias of strings when one see’s that flower first in bloom. To believe in something greater than I and someone greater than I. to live a life of creation and modesty, to strive to express what menial words spoken could scarcely articulate and always come shorthanded, I believe that all creation in and of itself in an expression of God’s willingness to humble himself unto loving us…

a time when I had no name

Weep upon a silent moon rising,
The ashes of fate are decreed
by she that says yes unto he,
but my toils are a vain sport indeed.

Yet as all the clouds masquerade
For the mountains that have not raised,
my thoughts are seamed one in three
Always returning to days I cared not of thee.

As I ponder a beauty worth the cost of lust
I realize I am not the man I see every day,
What embellishment ever to be,
be it to worthy for me.

Not the moon glistening the freshly falling snow
As the beauty that I write no longer to achieve,
But she that is 97 tulips opening in cadence
to the sun slowly rising in the east upon fields of green.

undying thirst

Soft April dew upon the supple pedals I delight
Fragrance of early lilac and the morning air rich
From my mind I am ensnared in a thought
the temperance of my love withholds my nature
yet it is as a cross upon my heart, at times to heavy to bear,
my thoughts to be prophetic are of me alone
yet in some causality I know we are but one,
my undying adoration and the eternal nature of love
the endless stream of beauty woven into all movement
that began with first light and increases tenfold by every sunrise
let it be said that in some fragment within the perception of time:
my love for thee was an eternal spring, that my heart thirst to drink

time upon the mind

The thought of you steams my breath
An ever wonder of all the beauty bequested to the night,
The sight of your splendor gaze ensnares the wildest in me,
Your touch yields all the fire of pain and breathes it into passion.

I could only ever say your grace is the fact I base my realization
Of your beauty that is as real as my faults and as true as my joys,
Until the fabled time you join my side I shall never cease to write
Of the saving grace of my life.

upon the wall the frame stood

What crime against what god
have brought upon thyself
to be condemned to a lonely hour as this
one that seems to never end

sand that never empties
from the chamber glass
have I wrought some sin to be
have I said let thy ill be my will

death came upon as a pendulum
waiting its turn to strike the hour nil
what could I ever say against such a kind fellow
he seemed to be the only remembrance of me

a tune once mute but now is sung
gay flowers that where to rich rest the tomb
a thought is now held far more than before
death the kind bringer of life and its toll

a tune of woefull glee

Love whimpering as it died
it decomposed it sat and dried
flaking as a leaf in the end
it gives way unto a new

shadow of dawn that was to soon
a glisten on the moon long be gone
a heartache I felt years before words were
and the sun spoke “why should I rise, when I’ll set to soon”

the jester cried at the child’s joy
the king relinquished his rights to dues
the serpentine mind of order left for lunch
and I sit here woefully un-amused