Shall I recite for you my feeling's worth?
My love-hearts count in more than all the birds,
evolving new as would their flocks rebirth
and drift like feathers, till their turn to words.

Aloft in love I gird within your glow
as tho' your warming grace reheats my sun
and breathe the sweetly breezes wings do know
and out the skies I call of love you won.

The sunsets only when in resting sleep
but I nest where the dreams are sweet and soft
and fly within this heart of crimson deep
for love is each your world, and I aloft.

If love made plumes then know they would reside
into your heart, and there will they abide.

Whilst neath the eye of night that shades of blue
and freckled stars of godly beauty marks
a gaze had sought to borrow sparks of new
that echoes through a choir of tenor larks

A twinkled hope between the love and moon
as tho' the orb has pierced it's scene within,
has been too many full, to say too soon;
a blackness starved of which could win herein.

Cliché to wish, yet wish it now will be
and placed upon celestial dots in sky
connect there one and grant it then to me
where love resides and knot these in a tie.

O' splendorous night-dream let cast such light
that renders fuse of heart to gleam a-bright!

What metaphor could meet a love-lost pain?
A dove cry only; has the breeze which hears,
and broken shards of wine could merely stain
tho' love-break shades the red off Merlot's peers.

A scarring heart has love enclosed in seal
to live a scab within the sorely chest
but challenge those; who can produce such zeal
as to remand the flow of Cupid's pest.

A winter's rose; has love's same-stem alive
tho' dormant, doubt the same love-limbs regrow
perhaps there's none that meet, that grief revive
may take them all and have ones love in woe.

No glass could break the same, no single tone
could have one's sorrowed heart, as tho' to own.

O' blind the sun, and send the blackness far
as I do wither, old like summer leaves
in warm uncertain winds, the wrinkles scar
of seasons gone, as from my youth it thieves.

The night denies the golden mirror's vim
I see all better with my future's sight
that soon my sun will cloak, and rays will dim
I wonder if the stars are souls a-bright?

I eye a starry four, alike my own
and chose a space; the youngest would, above
ah! Take me there, sweet angels to my throne!
That shine I may, unlike my lifeless love.

A spectre in the night, a hopeful end
for here I lost, but there will I ascend!

My love is tone-deaf, I can't hear the pitch
the sweetly nothings, all are nothing songs
and should the heated notes and lyrics switch
I'd be in dated tunes that none belongs.

Now when its time to play, or when to pray
or spice be added too, I tie in knots
love tangled strings that missed the rosy way
like sheets of music bare of noted dots.

Ah! Love of mine still echoes, ringing truth
abundant mess, yet has it's worth in wealth
to sound my gold then listen for my youth
for hearts that sing, meet not a lover's stealth.


So if romantic pleasures sing to meet
try meet in simple terms, and then repeat.

Describe my life? In pain, within a pain
and that in turn has demons beating walls
with tap and thump that echoes heart's refrain
that mine own beat made minor, when it calls.

It calls deformed; like dying breaths of birds
a croaking wish that end will duty so
and take me to a place of painless words
or nothing, better dust than lifetime woe.

But one I keep, it's all I have with praise
Ah! Jewels none to this in shining worth
my last recourse to shield the somber days;
my poems pen, that each my thoughts rebirth!

I'm gone already, sorrow has me won
but portion here I give some back, or none.

My mind is restless, you are blamed for this
infesting logic with the bluest eyes
and tearing scepters with your flawless kiss
from stems that lift mind's wealth unto your guise.

So feeble me, who gives all thoughts to you
with even those that'll have me leap and run
they stay with you, and leave behind the rue,
that portion starves and you in me have won.

Ah! Now your toning calms the waves of doubt
to think of you is as to sail the day
to think of love, cannot have thought without,
it's you, and all that mastered mine to sway.

So know my love that thoughts have bred this truth
you have in me, so conquered all untruth.