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Few are the times Love knocked at my door,
     but they've all escaped my memory;
No enchanting poems stirred in my core --
No grand tributes to Love's mystery

But when despair extinguishes hope's flame,
     what salient words drip from my pen;
It's then that my heart, wounded and lame,
     unveils its poetic acumen

Is this why misery commands free rein ---
     just to appease Fate's poetic lust?
The tyranny of anguish and pain
     gives hesitant verse that final ******

Try to visualize agony pent
     in the depths of a desolate heart;
Now sketch the face of that vile torment . . .
Soon the pain becomes a work of art

Too often deceitful hearts will lure
     trusting hearts, blinding them with false love;
Great is the anguish they must endure . . .
     but it's the poems that I'm thinking of!

Passion-filled verses mix and combine
     like the paints in a grand masterpiece
     when the shattered heart tries to confine
     rage and bitterness seeking release
    
And yet, Love that survives Fate's brutal shove ---
The fortress that refuses to fall ---
Those words that proclaim undying love
     become the grandest poems of all!
As twilight's deep shadows were falling,
A spirit voice whispered in my ear
A message that I found most enthralling,
Which I'll now repeat for all to hear:

"Love is a treasure we must cherish
Above all else, lest it soon be lost
Among baubles and gemstones most garish,
And fool's gold that was not worth the cost

Unlike diamonds, Love does not glisten,
Yet what radiance beams from tear-filled eyes
As desolate hearts eagerly listen
To Love's gentle whisperings and sighs

Love is a divine commodity ---
Inexplicable is its power,
As baffling as an ancient mystery,
Bringing joy to each waking hour

Cling tightly to this treasure called Love ---
Unequaled is the bliss that it brings,
For its value is rated well above
All the gaudy wealth of queens and kings

If bejeweled fingers fill your glove,
Cast aside these trifling, worthless themes;
Set your sights on the riches forged from Love . . .
You'll know wealth beyond your wildest dreams"
A seed of Love that never found
The hallowed path to fertile ground,
The fruitless trees, the orchard bare ---
Bitter pain of unanswered prayer

A tired heart, trampled by Love's feet
Dolefully yields in utter defeat;
No eyes gaze upon its despair.
Although unseen, the pain is there

An outstretched hand that no one holds
As night's obsidian cloak unfolds;
Mournful sobs permeate the air---
O, what pain! And no one to share

Hours of blissful happiness
Followed by guile's fatal caress;
Wretched pain of Love's sad farewell . . .
O, what stories the past could tell!

Though such reminiscing brings regret,
Still, the heart whispers "Never forget,"
And so to Love's treachery we're resigned,
And journey on  . . .  with pain close behind
I've no need to seek divine deity.
Seeing a glorious sunrise spread its light,
I bow in awe at this amazing feat -----
A solitary star vanquished the night.
O, the majesty of Nature's might!

And as the moon dims his silvery torch,
Feathered minstrels open sleepy eyes;
What choristers could sing a sweeter song?
(To mention angel choirs would be unwise ---
Never have their voices filled the skies)

Rainbow-hued flowers, their heads bending low
To the gentle stroking of a breeze,
Fill the air with a hypnotic scent
And the humming of delighted bees . . .
It is to such things I bend my knees

Then upward my eyes are suddenly drawn
To vaporous clouds drifting lazily,
And I ponder that enigmatic realm,
Hesitant to unfold its mystery.
(Could this be God's true identity?)

Crickets chirping, wolves baying at the moon,
From the pond, a frog croaks his opinion;
The ocean's roar, the Autumn woods ablaze ---
And over it all we have dominion.
And yet . . . I feel I'm Nature's minion

But if an elusive God is your choice,
I look upon you with  pitying eyes;
Marvels surround you, and yet you still seek
That obscure and silent, unresponsive prize . . .
An unseen God that common sense denies!
Endless fields of daisies.
Bare feet and black dress.
It’s still dewy.
I’m still sleepy, tired.
I don’t want to try again to get up and leave.
Be someone else.
I may roll over and dream away if I can.

But there’s a line of laundry.
I’m waiting for the sun to dry it.
So I can shake my clothes.
Before tomorrow I will be done.

The same things now repeatedly daily.
These are the days I didn’t think I’d get to see.
I wanted to die young.
These are the “old daisy days”.
Everything keeps on repeating.

I’m so over trying to get up and leave.
Trying to put on a face.
I can dream in my field feeling so exhausted.
My troubled mind can lay down in daisies.

Waiting for a line of laundry.
Not too long, you don’t want to be having to shake too many eventually.
When the next round hangs to dry.
It wears you down.
Cause it has to be right.
Or it feels too bad.

But now I’m stuck.
And I’m so over everything in here.
I’m so done trying to change or do anything to help myself getting up.
Maybe I should just lift up a foot.
Pick a little daisy.

And take the smallest little steps.
Think in possibilities still.
Nothing to lose.
Lying in a field of old daisies.
With a tired mind.
23-10-23
On that day he came to me
To sorrow I was bound,
Sailing without love's guiding star ---
What little joy I found

Cold and dismal was Hope's  lamp
Until he lit the flame,
What warmth and light surrounded me . . .
Then Heaven spoke my name!

Heaven heard my whispered pleas,
It saw the tears I cried,
It knew my heart's deepest desire . . .
My prayer was not denied

All my doubts  began to fade
Like dew upon the sea;
The latch was raised, the door swung wide . . .
The captive dove was free!

Free was I from doubt and gloom --
Free of fear's tyranny,
As angels strummed their golden lyres
In Divine harmony

Strange, indeed, the power of love ---
A glorious mystery!
My thankful heart will always bless
That day he came to me
This path, overgrown with briar and brambles,
Thorns and nettles strewn in disarray;
A loathsome path of broken dreams, and yet,
Willingly I walk it each day

This path that hurts not the feet, but the heart,
Where roiling streams overflow their banks,
And burning cinders comingle with ice --
An affirmation of Life's cruel pranks!

What is it that prompts my unwavering steps?
The love that greets me at journey's end!
The ghost of a love lost so long ago
Leaps boundaries only love can transcend

What pain I endure to savor love's bliss!
On this path, blazed by temerity,
I fly past the graveyard of ill-fated  dreams
To a love that defies mortality

How weary I've grown trying to understand
Why such perfect love incurred God's wrath;
And now all that's left are the memories
That await me at the end of this path
Love has always had, a favourite corner.
With Secrets, Wounds and Scars.
Hearts often meet, at Sunsets.
So at Night, they can count the Stars.
Lonely is My Heart Tonight,
as I stand upon this Sand.
Crashing Waves roll all over Me,
Finally a Moonbeam holds My Hand.
At Midnight, as I try to close My Eyes.
To exhale My Loneliness Away.
My Eyes keep waiting for a Heartful Soul.
But not a Soul comes My Way.
Wild with joy we outstretch eager hands,
Reaching for those first sweet buds of Spring,
Only to find thorns amidst the blooms,
Startling us with a most painful sting.
But it's just Life's way of teaching us
That happiness is a fleeting thing

But never stop dreaming and hoping,
Nor allow your heart to become callous,
For when happiness knocks at the door
How soon we forget Fortune's malice.
And when happiness wears Love's disguise,
Whose lips would not sip from Love's chalice?

Happiness flits and darts through our lives
Erratic as a bird on the wing,
Fragile as a snowball in the dawn
Of a sudden sultry morn in Spring.
Just a brief reprieve from misery,
Happiness is but a fleeting thing
Love's ecstasy flew on gilded wings  
To this heart laden with woe;  
Like the buds of Spring my dreams unfurled . . .  
And then Fate dealt its cruel blow.
Now I walk that lonely path again,  
But I'll forget him . . . just don't ask when  

How does a shattered heart find its way,
Deprived of its guiding star?
How long will it take before it heals?
Do wounds this deep leave a scar?
Though my world is crumbling 'round me now,
I must carry on . . . just don't ask how

Trying to hush echoes of the past,
Alone I bitterly weep;
I've climbed the Hill of Sorrows before  . . .
But it's never been this steep!
Each day dark clouds are filling my sky,
And yet, I still hope . . . just don't ask why

But should abandoned hearts dare to hope
Lost love will return again?
Last night as I prayed I thought I heard
Crying angels sighing Amen;
Now I bravely flaunt this smiling mask,
But do I still miss him? . . . Please, don't ask!
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