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
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…
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.
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
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.