How absent was of mine in summer's gone
From you, whom passed and left the winter's cloud
Concealing me from king of eyes upon
The meadows glow, with none a ray allowed.
Oh I see you within my passing years
Of season's mirror, that in autumn brings
The withered leaves to fall as does my tears
And ochre takes your gold and angel wings.
Even in Spring does the hue of flower's dim
With sadden gaze in morning's weeping dew;
Looking on me with pity worth on him,
Like all my sorrows stare, and Springtime knew!

Yet if could florals take my seasons' gloomed
Still leaves me of a heart with you entombed.

Tho' men with plenty have proclaimed your love
Is love of theirs, then so yours has become
Somewhat a differed love and partial dove;
Compared what they adore, mere scratch the sum.
Your radiance of skill born out the womb;
No quarter moon reflect that do you just
Nor sun that creeps in only season's bloom,
For worthy you of love, year round's a must!
Yes! I would love and let that you be you,
And I'll be shades of your own sweetest sight,
As winds of summer onto beauty blew;
To have me yours, shall compliment love's plight.

Yet if with one whom loves yours less than whole
Then from your love you give, from you have stole.

Like rats they swarm deprived and strip the shelves
To fight till last with no tomorrow's store,
They bicker loud and bite amongst themselves
And chew upon the papered spoils of war.
The panic breeds! A newer virus spawns:
Contagious fear, no mask could filter out
And sends them running wild; it's frantic pawns
'Till barest bares the shame to linger 'bout.
As paper, food depletes it's end of day;
Disgruntled many leave and wane their shop
With curse upon their lips; here not to say!
Then back again the beasts that cannot stop.

Yes I proclaim here's me: oh the wiser!
"Wait, No! Hands off, that's my sanitiser!"

But what of all his greatness, what then now;
Does his determined might just disappear
Into the clouds of far where angels bow?
Or dwells his gift, where gifts were shared down here?
To answer this we may need search our tears;
How Laker's passing made an ocean's salt
Form into sorrow vast that vast reveres!
To have me think eight's spirit, shall not halt.
As when with perseverance he did teach
Adored Gigi to strive for game's elite;
He does with us with ever passion's preach!
To drive us forth to seek our greater feat,

I sense within where inspiration cries:
Here Kobe lives, where Mamba never dies!

Majestic! Stands an empire's pulsing heart:
Embroidered by it's minds of equal thought
That forged upon the earth by brick and part;
The fires of it's citizens whom wealth is brought.
And from such gains have others dared revere
To replica it's might and glories too,
Until that air on mountains burns to sere;
Then who is left to mourn, but only few.
They testify of times of grand machines
Of arms as wide as oceans, gripped to cast
The vastness of the world to lesser Queens
That only in memories could it last.

And as I watch more pillars' great so fall
The rubble of such dreams may be us all.

For truest love to write from out my pen
Then best a muse be found or none at all;
Decieving them, the curious in men:
Is to deceive myself, thus write as small,
As would a fool with no poetic claim;
Besides the lie in meter would conceal,
Yet found as false as couplets tend disclaim,
So love called true my friends, I can't reveal.
But love of sorts I am equipped to write:
Love blessed with mini imperfecting loves
That still dissolves the weariness of night
And nestles tight devoted, mismatched doves.

But is that love now true as love is real?
Convinced by pen, true love and me congeal!

About my heart, how'd you know more than I?
Your time spent loving's less than half my years,
And with that lengthy half it seems to die
When they, of many too, to yours it nears.
Assure no waste, as comparison suggests:
The dearest pleasures suffered no neglect;
Explored to full these hands and by requests
That had me thought my life had no defect;
What sweetly doubt you cast my shadow's past!
Yes now, to then, they take a shadow's form;
But seemingly anothers, running fast
Back to their time before your loving storm:

If measures of our love is how one's changed
The heart that was; was then one most estranged!