Behold a fire, fanning tongues

Of crimson warmth dance along

Inviting, smooth, and brightly lit

And comforting warmth emit

Her crackling warmth and light

Illuminating and  bright

Darkness held at bay

Til night passes into day

Take heed that once you look

Not to touch the caressing flame

Nor fondness for warmth mistook

Lest only oneself be to blame

Whence you prudence had forsook

Ne'er be you whole again.

Curse you, Heart, you fickle fool,

Whose honeyed words and silken tongue

Promises gaily lead along,

Ledges, scant, above Demise's pool!

Curse also Mind, whose steeled resolve,

Through e'ery belaboured trial, strife, and toil,

Had never graced one obstacle nor foil -

That love round which all thoughts revolve.

Curse you both, myself besides,

Fickle rakes, vagrants violate

Curse also I, wherein both reside

For whom Sense must oscillate

Curse most Love, the worst of Lies,

Death of Reason, curse of Fate.

Pass on lonely wanderer, to the land

Beyond horizon's edge, unknown to you

The familiar hearth, ever warm and fond,

Now a binding leash and a stagnant pool.

From dawns, to dusks, again to days anew,

Ever turning, never ceasing, from days to weeks to years,

Time stops short for ne'er a one, nor few,

But always turns to make the new appear:

Bind not to old, kept nearer at hand -

Even oaks must fell, ne'er time withstand;

Accept neither place, mundane nor undue,

Like rivers change, one's fate and lot may too;

Life is chance, seldom known,  consumed by fear,

Embrace chance, fickle still, bountiful in cheer.

My Love - ever full and nourishing -

Were only that you were a vine, still I

Would worship at your root, and only you

Would be the food to give me strength.

My Love - ever most bright and brilliant -

Were you only the sun, i would lay bare,

Beneath your unending gaze, unflinching,

Consumed by your passion and warmth.

My Love - ever mysterious and keen -

Were you the depth of the sea

I would gladly drown, weighed by my love

To the bed where exists only your void.

My love - ever caring and kind -

If only you were a potter skilled,

I would gladly surrender myself

Back to the clay and be yours to form.

My love - ever cool and serene -

Were you death, unremitting

I would have no life worth living

To speed toward eternity with you.

My love - ever absent and departed -

If only you were the air surrounding,

Your absence collapsing my lungs

That i might not feel this pain.

There are words I want to say,

Things to let out of my heart,

Thoughts I want to voice aloud

And seething feelings to impart

The words I carry every day

The things I always bear,

Because I try to make you proud

Even though you're never there

I've carried all of these for years

Trying to live up to your dreams

I want to be what you want of me

Even when I'm bursting at the seam

Giving up holds all my fears

I swore I'd never disappoint

I kept on being who I cannot be

But now it stops

I had a plant that was dear to me

In a *** upon the window sill

I kept it alive for several years

Inside, away from heat and chill

But suddenly this plant had died

And i could find no reason why

Sure there were times i forgot

To water, at least once a week or so,

There were also times i left it in the sun

But at least i never left it out in snow

I'm sure the roots had grown too

And filled the soil with no more room.

I guess it really shouldn't be a shock

With how fragile little plants are

After years of careful care

A few weeks of neglect can scar

I can't tell why I didn't think of that before

But now it is too late: the plant is no more.

Happiness, like tinder, takes to flame and heat,

Bursting forth in splendor, then fading in retreat.

Like a scalding brazier, whose warmth encompasses,

Source of endless leisure, whose none else surpasses.

Yet still small joy, ephemeral, fading ghost of yesterday

Presence merely temporal, quickly passing far away.

Golden sheen, all consumed, as morning mists at dawn --

Common life then resumed, epiphany forever gone.

Cherish then every joy, treasure then each day's lot,

Celebrate every toil, that purpose be not forgot.