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Mark 8h
When I foresee the doom pollution brings:
I rush for fresher air, but sighing more;
For out of younger lungs have we their wings?
Deprived what youth knew-not had breathed before.
At times I fall like many fallen trees
To lay there wonder: what am I to you?
While whispers send their answers by the breeze:
Without there me, have life no air that knew.
Yet hope do linger deep in future's eyes
Pray, hope will show before their eyes have closed:
Regrets are afterthoughts of somber guise;
While bustling earth turns loneliness reposed:

Immense in scale that all may drift in blaze
Then we'd have left in wake, our human ways.
Mark 8h
Shall I from heart reveal your grace in rhyme?
Your tenderness enthrals a love thought lost:
Your eyes revive the bluish hue of mine
Your morning's sun that clears all winters' frost,
Your winter's snow imbued throughout your skin
Your rain that patters sweet when driest most
Your mirth does meet the spring as tho' are kin
Your when the gilt of day is mine foremost,
Your sunset when your face intakes the sun
Your smile is summer months in all the twelve
Your love in wondering: where love begun
Your thoughts of thoughts that dearly love to delve:

That I do love as oh! rhyme does your ode!
Then read you more, when more my love's bestowed.
Mark 8h
How can you view within your glass, an end?
When beauty yours, bestows another make,
What godly blesses you have gracious send;
By form, what substance yours had then remake,
That one be two and two - your beauty's sight;
Suffice your lens revise the mirror's gloom;
To view your years rewind and youth's delight;
As your to beauty as your kin do bloom.
But worry not that I can't claim the same;
How pretty more your gift to give than mine,
For shame on time if yours decrease became;
Depriving dwelling eyes, your beauty's line:

Tho' I will wither 'round with clockwork's bend
That you shall not, makes time a sweeter friend.
Mark 8h
Tho' I've no 'scope to witness distant spheres
Nor fortune, bribing way to travel space,
Yet I believe to know what there appears
As if there stars have glow for mine to trace.
That knowledge I, cannot foretell our fate
Nor read the astrological of news
That find by stars for who's each perfect mate
Or veer from storm by craft or clever ruse,
Instead I've gathered; space is best to bide
When greatest distance travelled, greater thrill
And brighter sparkle; glows the better guide
With sight that has astronomers no skill:

But how I view these farthest, wondrous skies?
Begins with grace, then I fall deep in eyes!
Mark 8h
If fifty suitors claim their love for you
Of them I'm in, how could you end with me?
At least there five of height that mine outdo
And twice of those in waist cannot be he,
But if returns their one for cuteness sake
Then ten on cuteness scale would fail to meet,
Yet here be sure of mine; my measures make;
Another four less pretties tho' they're sweet;
Depart no less with three for jealousy
And two their friends, by loyalty they leave,
Requests that seven return to prelacy
Whilst eight recall in passing loves they grieve:

Between the last and I, for you to view
But such the love of mine that I be two.
Mark Oct 6
(I)

My love would frown, if could, about this stone;
For grey had never pleased her fashioned eye
And Times Old Roman carved for older throne-
Not beauty, youth, no mason knew could die.
Would they, as I, denounce that fair be bones?
Thereby no empty tomb would need a cross,
Engravings spared from eyes of teary loans:
That borrows from a grave's imprint of loss.
But plainly here invokes her name in etch:
Confronting on my dreams that have her live-
As vividly as breath, her beauty's sketch,
Yet sight to stone cannot in death unlive.

Upon then mason grave this line 'neath hers:
'If here resides, then here too mine refers'

(II)

But when I part her grave, part follows me;
Unseen but seen behind my weary lids;
At best when closed does darkness gift her be
Into the light methought that death forbids.
Yet do I mourn with force to self deceive?
Defying state that time shall be my own,
Lest have me too immortal death receive
And dwell between where mind and spirit roam?
No! Gone my love to where all beauty flies!
Where havens still her grace as when had left,
I bound her not to ducts where beauty cries
Tho' I despair by depths at mine bereft.

Goodbye my dear, may essence seize the skies!
But be nearby, when near your body lies.

(III)

That I converse with you on matters new;
That matters old do not befall on you,
Could you forgive if by the winds so blew
A leaf upon my love that grows anew?
Know that they grow to not conceal your mound
Nor dig you deeper than by sorrow dug;
Think no mistake that 'neath my heart's not bound;
But love's bereft have none a better drug.
Yet if by sign out from your spirit's world;
By sparrows, storms, or ominous displayed:
Have by the skies 'alone' the word you hurled
Then shall it be that love is ours replayed.

Should graciousness so follow where you are
Then you would know you're not replaced, by far.
Mark Oct 5
But when I part her grave, part follows me;
Unseen but seen behind my weary lids;
At best when closed does darkness gift her be
Into the light methought that death forbids.
Yet do I mourn with force to self deceive?
Defying state that time shall be my own,
Lest have me too immortal death receive
And dwell between where mind and spirit roam?
No! Gone my love to where all beauty flies!
Where havens still her grace as when had left,
I bound her not to ducts where beauty cries
Tho' I despair by depths at mine bereft.

Goodbye my dear, may essence seize the skies!
But be nearby, when near your body lies.
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