If loyalty were colour and then drawn
Across the void in clear blue canvassed sky
As grand to turn the sovereign artist's scorn
Into a star perched centre in his eye,
And clouds to be impurities of purity
Devotion is known when devotions not
The idle efforts of obscurity
Yet oh! How beauty needs each sweetened dot,
The colour best that loyalty could make;
Which need reflect the finest skill at play,
Within the chest that love does love it take:
The blushing red and purple to display!

And from a distanced look at canvassed true
To be then seen: that glory's sight of you!

Oh what a task befalls this poet's write:
What ode for this a darkness of my mind?
Without no form unless my weary sight
How could my words of praise to disease bind?
Suppose this state is half to full and hence:
My dark companion seems a loyal friend;
As much as thickened clouds to summer's sense
As thought umbrellas block a healthy end.
And too with generousity I give
The praise: devotion, to the dreadful cause;
That fear owns life and in that fear to live
And breathe so happiness does not gift pause,

But here I pause in ink's defiant line:
Go back to hell oh devil, far from mine.

Oh Judge me not in death to love again
Sweet spirit rest and souls brace impermanence!
If ignorance is rife in worlds of men
Remember when embodied of essence,
Confuse not love with hearts forgetfulness
Still too in wait am I into your realm
That which did live has mine of loneliness
In tribute now to then my hearted helm!
Departed though my sweetest love beyond
Has such instilled a love and way to love
And have me deep in need alike that bond
Which has dear soul concerned far there above:

Rest love in all the bliss such souls command
If weren't your love, then mine is worthless sand.

If could a summer linger 'bout myself
Accompanied then by the master's eye
Up high and proud as perched on twelfth
With generous out-glow of amber's dye,
Then sandy strolls by sea are daily grinds
Their salty wash would trickle up my feet
On funny, little shells of whisper kinds
As seagulls chatter: glory to the heat,
Then Lord's spy will close eye of glow to sleep
Majestic summer wields it's magic night
As kisses softly breeze are mine to keep
And tell tomorrows bring it's beaming light.

Have summer in infinities galore!
But trade I would to feel her breath once more.

My weary mirror has no fun of late
It's stare is empty, cautious and as dim
As happiness when met in deathly date
What now is me appears into a him,
And he could sadden sad into a smile
In grin of measure wide that his decrease
Within a crept behind the eye of bile
In salt and wound that pains the skin to crease
For each a sullen ridge re-tells a sorrow made
By form as poor as deeply dug it's way
That pleasance birthed with vibrance were to fade
So have us left depressed into decay

What sulken form reflects mine eyes to see
The bitter sight and breathless life of me.

No Poem mends the bleeding heart,
Of ruptures, love had wrought upon.
Nor syllables express and part
That love with past their gone.

Why write then oh lovelorn friend
And poet?
Why stage your sorrows there?
Whom but within your pain shall know it
Whom even with heart shall dare?

Let know for sorrowed lovers that grief of ardence!
Your pain is shared
No heart is spared
Let words least mend the silence!

When all my dreams are lively dreams no more,
And dirt, my winter blanket covers me;
To join as dust eternal time has store;
The fate of fates does destine mine to be.
No shine of summer reach below the field
Let barren as the life had lived, now low,
But lest a bed of grass have fresh dirt shield
So none may think me buried six below.
That gentle patter of the autumn winds
Not play the beat this core once drummed ago
When spring did glow before what time recinds,
Leave damp and lonely soil and all it's woe:

That cold; be all my seasons, all of four
If I am not to see you evermore.

I)

Our precious months have none for charity,
Yet isolation; do by months donate
My waning form, for solidarity;
Absent of sickness, nearer distant fate.
My end seems meek and much less horrible,
Than if your eyes did scorn what time does crease
Upon my skin, less white adorable,
For yours of beauty stilled, mourn my decrease?
No! Worry not, for sweet your sweetheart's eye:
Abundant in immortal glory's stage,
When paired with you no longer I am I
But us! Now five years more, ten gone my age.

Yet that decrease fear covids added
much;
Corona's law: times two without your touch.

(II)

Law bid's my better self from me to part,
Across the sick laid world in viral war,
If wonder where's my best? Let check your heart;
Where all my vibrancy and ferver store,
Albeit are my eyes that make the artist,
And art is love when beauty forms the muse;
Is you that map my beauty true; sweet chartist!
But you had only mapped your own infuse.
When this abundance has your dearests seen;
True mind's deduction knows what bears without;
A kingdom ruled in vigil for a queen;
Steadfast a lesser king, still king devout.

My love - my best you have and best to know:
Pity my least, when most without your glow.

(III)

Oh lovely one, tho' time's unsavory,
Your privilege from it's change and creasing blade;
Deprives from time: decay's own slavery,
From your sweet youth that sweetest form has stayed.
What deity does guard your beauty's jewel?
Whom favored graces do continue more;
In time that sweeter mood will turn to cruel:
An infamy well known from those whom wore.
Ah! When that fearsome wand does show your wear,
Never me fooled; yes grey would hue your white
And happen all the while before my stare;
But love shan't change, nor day appear as night

Nor heart could grey nor love turn older stale'd.
If proved these false; mere proved my pulse had failed.

(IV)

I tend this lockdown'd day in unmade bed,
Then greet the icy morn with bitter brew
But drown in distant news of many dead;
I gasp for foreign lives I never knew.
How near to you! Thus near my sacred stone;
Beholder of my love what love there bears,
If comfort's found beneath your chested bone,
Is mine revealed; a love when all else tears.
Ah! Meager seems my loneliest of lines,
When other loves have costlier of loss,
For ours shall turn when 'rona's force resigns;
Back to our hearted bridge at lover's cross,

But thought the pain if you succumbed the worse
Does think my end by body, soul, in hearse!

(I)

No lovelier of cause has pen to write
Your praise; my love's own glorious inspire:
Conveying love to black on naked white,
Returns by color, soaked in ink's perspire.
O, could by rhyme suffice your eyes that I
Convince by wage of heart; my love's here true?
Is truthfulness the star to pupil dye
And clarity; the heart in starry view?
Then bluish gems, that aqua twice in yours;
I humble here love's options made of two:
Accept my ardent verse where ardence stores,
Or seek the words another prose for you.

If worthier a pen on me replace,
How he out-blushed this ode, is my disgrace.

(II)

Remove my page then, far from where you stand,
But count the steps you pace as you reverse;
And sum their noted by your careful hand;
Amount the total tears my mourn disperse.
Sad offspring of my eyes would tarry not:
Like scattering of soldiers they'd unite;
And seek for mine your place, your grace and spot
Albeit puddle, pond or river's plight.
My watery of knights would surely find
Your source, that from them caused their liquid rue:
As you may travel far and fast as mind,
Yet you have distanced none the far you knew:

My words maybe where Saturn hides the sea
But then your heart is Saturn, hiding me.

(III)

Then why conceal, deny by chested vase
My adoration, born'd in host it lives?
You form my paradise, why seek in Mars;
A love's debris a rounding ring relives?
For they of heart write emptiness like space
And float the idle years of reverie;
Never to touch beyond a planet's face,
Is love to waste; proclaiming ever he?
Replete your eyes with hearted cause of mine,
I ask; not to mislead your eyesight's will
But reason; to accept what here define
A love already yours possessing still.

O' Saturn'd heart, your loveliness gives thought
Absent your favor here, this three is nought.

(IV)

What measure raise my words that eye'd no more
By mind and heart, both for these lines are filled?
Condemned into the realm of there before,
And here this forth with them as they are spilled,
Into a sadden pit that ink dissolves
By lava; love so equally does dread,
Where unrequited drowns, till there absolves
And what was once my love and all, is dead?
No! Sweetest muse, is me I doubt not love;
Mere thoughts we could be parted have me lost
But in my deepest fear's love's deepest glove:
In darkness love shines brightest, hope is glossed!

Oh truth, have I now found you for my eye
No lovelier of cause: has proved no lie!

Now if my love you took from where you stand;
Recount the steps you make as you reverse,
And sum you noted by your careful hand:
Presents the total tears my eyes disperse.
But offspring of my eyes should tarry not;
Like scattering of soldiers they'd unite
And seek for me yourself, your place and spot,
Albeit puddle, pond or river's plight.
Suprise to know my teary knights will find;
The source that from them cause of liquid rue?
For you may travel far and fast as mind,
Yet you have travelled none the far you knew.

For love maybe where Saturn hides the sea
But then your heart is Saturn, me the sea.

(I)

If weary eyes about this classic form
Intake each part; as syllabled before,
Then by such mind here meaning shall deform;
Equal'd the lay of bareness white it wore.
Is time as spare as air is plenty free,
That need bestow deception with what read?
Such reading glass forbids that beauty be
A script of heart; a sight that's better dead.
Yet beats here still and still you lasted long,
Now pity rules behind that centred stare?
To scorn this amateur's own state and song;
Summounting lines with mere a boorish glare?

If here by some of tradegy is true
Then wish you never read, nor wrote it too.

(II)

Enriched upon the riddance of your doubt
Comes comfort you're the old you thought myself,
Now you to fade and shall you fade without
The fame that gifts the older works their shelf.
New beauty now; adds you with further dust;
How knew the wise this antidoting cure:
That pleasures eyes and lets dissolve the rust
And bid this very heart here write her lure.
Yes! She by here account, withholds no lines
But flourish thoughts! Like leaves by April's spring;
That chatter sweet on limbs of sugar pines
In rustling, rapping ode: 'for her we sing'.

By merit due her beauty takes this hand
And writes new love not you in this withstand!

(III)

This poet's eye awakens in her grace!
Abiding treaty's of the sun and dawn,
That sovereign's sight reveal her blessed face;
Entrancing loyal ink that beauty's drawn:
With homage to the Nyx for hue of hair;
There woven rare as silk around a star;
To gently patterned curls of rippling flair
That becons yonder beams from moons afar,
To crystallize her pupils; aqua blue
In clear cut waters found no longer there,
With sensory of sight that pierces through;
Where waiting greets the words of love to bear!

'Oh not another sonnet!' Yet, by three
I have denounced your worth by praising she!

You, you with that humdrum
Come feel my heartdrum
For only you

Tap, tap beat your fingers
Till mine it lingers
In only you

Know, know how my heart works
Now feel my fireworks
Blast only you

Deep, deep in where love glows
Only where love knows
Is only you

Sweet, sweet we a couplet
Maybe a triplet
With only you

Sing, sing sweet in love song
Pitch high and six long
Love's only you!

(I)

Though man with plenty whom proclaim your love
Is love of his, be wary may become,
Of heart; in lesser love and shade of dove;
Compare your potency; mere scratch the sum:
Of radiance, from skill born out the womb;
No quarter moon reflects that mirror just,
Nor sun that wakes in only season's bloom;
In lovelier of loves, year round's a must!
Deservingly, let love let you be you;
And shade your sweet abundance bathed a-bright
Like winds of summer onto beauty blew:
To compliment is love, more than of sight.

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

(II)

Then may you ask where find this love I write;
This poet dreams and dreams so through his make
That ink does spray tho' well, is mere a sight:
The love he raves is poet's stead and sake.
It's not of my deception you're deceived;
Your love has met with foe whom sways belief
In faith, devolved where faith is ill recieved;
Illiterate to love of ink's relief.
Yet still I pen for eyes in deep your realm
Well versed in alpha letters of the heart,
Let I revive this truth imprint that helm:
How beauty dwells within all-loving art!

And you possess love's many forms we hold
So dear and so majestic to behold!

(III)

Not from sweet fantasy becomes my words:
They flow from love, they flow in love to page;
By palpitating beat each two of thirds,
The third I do divulge my lover's stage:
How unaware this rose, of ardent truth
That becons my lips but witholds my tongue,
Renounces age and blooms a brighter youth
That's flutters on my face a bird unsung.
At night returns into my budding chest
And pass the moments by, like wind and time,
No! Poetry in three unveils my zest!
And couplet spill my secret love in rhyme:

My chasm where breath of love does form and brew
Is muse of mine and all of mine! It's you.

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!

You left the fog that took your heart from us:
We linger there within your numbers left;
To add, subtract in all to equal thus;
Your eight and twenty-four's are now bereft.
Our sorrow pleas that you could play once more!
Perhaps there's golden baskets where you are
There by your baby as you were before;
And each by turn would sparkle in a star!
The clouds conceal your form but not your praise
But take you into fame of higher realms:
A mentorship for greatness and its ways,
Yet now forgive; our sadness overwhelms:

And mourner's mourn where yours and Gigis keep
Tho' graves unmarked, let markings be our weep!

Who was the sweetest of my springs, lays deep;
Beneath the soils that once her eyes adored,
Her gaze it seemed the flowers growth did keep
No season since were blessed with sweeter chord,
Now littler do appear the daisy's growth,
Has stains of salt from out my eye impaired
What mirrored the flourishing of my love?
Witnessed by eyes that on her beauty stared
Now seem to turn to heaven's Grace above.
Oh! Gentle buds you need not search the sky:
Abundant love surpasses mortal's guise
And lives on where in love did fix the eye;
Then know this truth of love, that yours be wise:

Remain she does, sweet flowers dear beside!
For yours to view, then here my chest inside!

Since love has us entwined, then let be three
And of the genes that spliced proportion you;
The greater half to mere a third of me
That I proclaim of beauty; now is two,
Tho' loving sin desires you for my own,
Is in that sin consideration finds:
Another be as loved as loved I've known
From beauteous of form your offspring binds.
Then if alike, she'll love a lonely man
Whose bitterness towards his mirror's self;
Be changed from bitter farce to sweetest fan:
Then darling kin be loved like you; myself.

The fate that draws us both could greater still
Live on your beauty and your loving will.

I don't deny; love in heart is life's force
For procreation how we need love more:
Would solve with love how hate does cause divorce
Between own mind and lover's loving core.
Is just then one to love their self alone
To spend their days that selfishness revolves
And hermit nor hermess need none atone
Before their own and lover's sin devolves.
Let here from my experience so lend:
At first does single-hood live single's dream
But love still loves in shadows love does send
'Till even they have taken voice to scream:

And call upon your lonesomeness apart
Than what in love revives within your heart!

Against the onward clock, you stand as were
When springs' of old did share your present state,
Such that in you; your petal's inner myrrh
Have fragranced that outlasts our ageing fate!
From yours of sweetest scent do I detect,
Inward allow you where my age does store
And drawn as bees would to it's honey sect
Are those that youth me young as times before,
Invigorating mine that change my sight:
How I view me and all mine were distained
And have my burrows filled by youthful might
That when your eyes are far; you have remained:

By cause your essence lends it's grace to mine
To withhold time; I name your grace devine!

The grey-white sky does not depress my view:
Most beautiful of things do turn to grey;
How does the sky wear age as age does new;
When colored by the sun or fresh spring day.
Today may not be spring and sky's not young
And beauty from the winds do whisper not,
Yet is from imperfections greater sung
Preserves all beauty checked from weary rot?
I wonder in this sight, do I see you
But is in eyes of yours that look on me:
Surveying all my blemishes as true
And truth is beauty, beauty's love that be:

So I adore this play that drapes the sky
I look on them, as you with me your eye.

When time against my eyes appears in glass;
I witness what was young to be now old;
How quick did timely hands upon me pass
And left a furrowed frame of wrinkled mold.
No year is lost, each one embeds my skin
But did I live them when in times of youth?
For youth did wish me older than my kin;
So I be wise and wiser to a truth:
That age could gift me freedom of myself,
And happiness will follow like the sun
Does greet the morn and shine a day of health:
To add my time is to in time have won.

How foolish were my eyes deceived of time
Now black and white recieves them here in rhyme.

Is it your taking, that deprives my rest
Of sweetly nothings, offered by a sleep?
Does will that motions scythe give shadows zest,
Compeling mine to follow them in weep?
Is by a terror does the dark give light
To my bereft that they by actions cause
When swift in bygone season love took flight
Into the bitter wake my eyes do pause?
No, love! The truest love that had mine breached!
Believes that slumber's time forgets the loss:
A state awake can spirit's love be reached:
No threshold has my love their need to cross:

In blackness calls a love 'why did you die?'
As unto heart is too the restless eye.

I'd long for sorrow, if that sorrow comes;
By touch or voice that she bestow to me
Compare to nought, displeasure then becomes
Attention I have yearned, that mine could be,
Despite such poor reception mine be worth;
That I'm recieved, delights to my neglect
And gives more heartfelt meaning to my birth
That beauty slights their hair, for my affect.
For I, if in my loving kingdom meet-
Her scorn, her frown rekindles then love's hope;
In one as dried of love that love shall greet
And with her bitter sweets, shall both elope:

And brush this shadowed heart out of it's dust
Till then of greater scream: 'now love's a must!'

When better days turn-in to better nights
I dare-not dream for seldom they appear,
Tho' absence of the Sun and all it's lights
Have too the darker sky of greater fear:
That season's gold have rusted deep in prime
When any day were that to be revered
And cherished like a mother of a time;
Born out from hope, when fog of doubt had cleared.
So this; a night of rarest beauty seen
By cause unknown nor form be sightly found
Let sleepless air be breathed till Dawn has been
And fate of coming blackness has me bound:

Then I shall weep as sadness weeps it's ways
May-not for sadden's sake, but those good days.

When all my substance needs not breath of air
And eyes devolve into the depths of night
Would grace of her divine renew me there-
Between love's cast and love's eternal sight?
No sweeter seraph could deliver mine
If the archangel flew to me herself!
Nor sacred words resaid of love divine
When earthly lips proclaimed of love ourself.
With tiny carriage shall my lover bring
Our cherub! Stilled from life that's yet to live,
On gilded hands my child shall hear me sing
Oh babe I love you so and love shall give:

Beyond my death and far as far need be
Where she and babe resides, there too find me.

If you with wit and patience reach my chest
And veer in left, be wary of your find:
For you'll become in maze far from my best;
Of scars to newer love, won't be so kind,
As they do mourn like many broken doves;
Together bound that kin have no increase
And call the call of pain from older loves
To flock upon your path, that yours decrease.
But with your loveliness do I believe:
My bitter selves nearby my heart remold-
To grace that yours become my love's reprieve,
Then journey you'd so braved had found my gold:

In golden depth there's hope, but let you know:
If you retreat, how can I blame you so?

Your single-hood gives time to beauty's waste:
Such charity you will in time donate,
Why give then now when bitter shall it taste-
To see your prize transfer, some distant date.
Recall your mother's grace, gave you your start
Yet do you so deprive another's dream?
To wear as proud the beauteous of art,
And claim of yours the womb of their own gleam!
For loveliest of forms, we need of more,
Spare thought for eyes of many, future's gaze
Who may deny your beauty as past lore-
Unless yourself do give by form your praise,

Alone bequeaths that soil's sole beauty's heir
To live past dust, another you must bear!

When I return by thought to youthful days;
I sprightly swing upon those swings again,
And wonder how the setting sun replays-
The glory's change of light to nightly gain.
Remembering that night alone brought fear:
That somehow in that darkness I'd be lost;
Alike that Sun I too would disappear-
Onto a lonesome plain, by threshold crossed.
Then I would cease the swings and too have left:
My wondrous gaze that wondered 'bout the far;
Denying light to night's own daily theft,
From then, reciting hence this twofold scar:

Retreat, do all the light when darkness creeps
Perhaps shall prove I'm one, if mine it reaps.

A morbid turn of thought has led me here-
At night, where all the dead do rest in earth
How sickly strange the soil, knows how I fear-
This graven yard of death, and deathly birth.

To then torment myself, I visit hers;
The grave upon my heart and on my love
I taunt an older spell, a book refers:
"bring whom lay here, their spirit from above,

Let none the hardened soil halt thy path
Revive this parted soul and gift her air;
To crawl from out the deathly calls of wrath
To walk upon her ghastly bed to fair,

If this be done then I do promise thee;
My soul unto the force that gifts her 'wake,
Relinquish then this body's husk and be
Where I am deemed to whom her soul's remake".

I wait reply, with none a hope in breath,
But sweeps a gust of wind about her leaves
And there an eerie chatter out of death!
'By God!' I thought, is this to be, she breathes?

The leafage seemed to hear and then responds-
With whispers 'mongst the rustle... 'here she be,'
Without no pause, the mound implodes! With fonds-
Then whirling, whispers weeping, to then see:

Out crawls my frailed, deceased, beloved Ruth
Whose form still bears the scars of death decays,
I'm stilled by horrid screams of torrid truth
'What have I done to you?' my love dismays.

Her falling jaw with eyes of pain, now speaks....
'now 'tis below thine self must claim this grave,'
It's then do I recall, as terror wreaks;
That I did bargain then, my soul to slave.

By unseen force, I fall deep in the hole
And lay inside her coffin, ready splayed;
As still as dead, my light in life have stole
As closed the cast with dirt upon me laid.

Entombed, I scream, but none alive can hear;
By love I lived and love's me buried here!

Should twenty more of yours and all the same
Proclaim that they are you and you for me:
What tells could tell wherein my love became-
And where my love by one shall ever be?
Yes, eyes be all of blue and whitish snow
When met with mine hue even more azure,
And blondy lush of hair; do summers' show
By sway that gold commands and winds allure,
With equal tones may all review my write,
Ah! whom most moved, aware that she's my muse;
With hand to voice bare not the read's recite;
Then turn and run to me with love's enthuse!

Yes beauty plays it's part in lovers' choice
But heart reveals your love's the greater voice.

Let he, like I, of whom with dimming light:
Does view the setting sun within his glass;
By his depressed, or decade's bitter sight;
With stare of sombre eyes, his hours pass,
Onto himself may wish his furrows filled;
And brighter sun complex upon his face;
By reminiscence make what years had splilled;
That he may shine within back yonder grace:
Dear friend, decay has not yet creased your heart;
Why spend the seconds bitter of your years?
Your face is yours as born it's youthful start,
Enough of time is bitter, minus tears!

For we of time; may seek where ours began
Creating merely time's unhappy fan.

My furry coated fluff-ball does so bark
As tho' by each a roar is pleasure met
Not via song nor tones of sweetest lark
But in such voice that my acusstoms let,
Why do I choose to burden my own ears?
And glue to clothings; sticky canine fur,
To then have soaked saliva's ridden tears
About my cheek with enthusiasm's spur!
I witness disregard for leather's couch
Complete with shear disdain for carpet floors
And horrid shoey murders by a grouch
With innocence of eyes upon all fours!

But with such pain now I divulge by heart:
Without such farce, would I be torn apart!

My mirror cries, my mirror sighs
But mine are dry, too dry to cry
The glass it seems, has cracking seams
That seep of wine, as red as mine,
But mine withold, and far too cold
To drip and fall, to splash and crawl,
But mirror mine, was never fine.

My mirror speaks, of sorrow's weeps
And weeping by, the seconds die
But silence stills, and lips with pills
Drink both by brine, down sorrows' mine,
Tho' differ we, the same we be
My mirror dies, whilst I in lies:
That mirror mine, is all to fine.

My mirror knows, it barely glows
No light to shed, on who is dead
No breath to breathe, no breath to leave
Yet I do shine, appearing fine,
Yes differ we, but same we be
For none to see, except for me
That I am fine, but mirror mine.

If found her beauty, then have found my eyes:
As painter's draw their muse, do mine of hers;
That when in blink her lovely youths apprise
Depicting truth as tho' by glass transfers;
No dreaming brush omits the slightest curve
Nor other light bestow that grace increase;
That artistry does best by mind preserve
So she through time bare not of time's decrease.
Yet could the years by force of cruel age,
Redraw by season's pen what I had drawed?
No! Art's the soldier 'gainst what time can wage;
Whilst skin may crease, by heart is none withdrawn!

But when her portrait's gaze outlasts my time
This canvas shall replace her frame with rhyme.

If love is equal to the fame it claims;
To fame it has no great monogamy,
Behind that which so prides, by self defames;
As plays the part of one's misogamy:
First has believed the host, with wondrous gift;
Deferred the eyes from under beauty's veil
To then proceed the 'everlasting lift'
Until of heart does love itself impale.
Yet have, by love methinks, I've been unjust;
By wary heart in search for better blame;
Than what in shattered glass is shattered trust;
Then love's still love, retreating where it came:

The bitter shards is not of love's remake
Apologies to love, for love's own sake!

When I compare my frame to other men:
I weep, and mirror's glass weeps for me too,
By height it seems their taller shrinks me when-
With force that they deny me greater view.
My dome's as barest 'neath their hairs of lush;
Of thickly grass by substanced strength unknown
How happy must they smile in each a brush
And pleasure's reep by winds that have them blown.
They boast by skin and shape, by right they're art,
Which have me think of art that I am fond:
A lover which attends my mirror's heart
As she's since loved with love's devoutly bond:

As I recall the loveliness she sends
I frown to trade for all their beauty lends!

Let he, whom in my kingdom, read here smart:
Your eyeslids best be closed when near my love;
That she is near, is not for gazer's art;
Except for mine that gaze her there above!
But if believe your love has mine outdone
You've narrowed small our friendship's wary lease
And let the rose between the earth and sun
To where your mateship's worth is worth to cease,
Yet if your cause is merely jealous eyed
How can of man be blamed if acts the brand?
For beauty, tho' is taken, yet have shy'd
Then friend that eye have best in you remand!

Make this exception to our friendship's writ:
I side with beauty, yours has yet been lit!

Which season could compare by right to you?
Tho' winter dreams are snowy as your skin
Your bring is warmth that rain dissolves in dew
Whomever known the sun be winter's kin!
As winter's cousin, Autumn ages leaves
Yet youth have yours too young for ochre change,
Yes sweet as fall your breeze, but never leaves
You gift the trees that need not rearrange.
New life of Spring does bloom as I do feel:
Within my chest your touch does bless me new,
But summer spreads to all it's lighten seel
As to my body yours does so imbrue

Yet you're too sweet, tho' much the summer bliss;
Your season is not one, as much would miss.

If found my mermaid, then too found my eyes
By me she breathes and breathes the deepest seas
With dual fins that needn't rely the thighs
Nor need by lungs intake the taller trees.
My feet remand by sand in darkest blue
Her sparkle swims by night, or is it day?
Yes with her kiss has needed air so blew
Without, beneath the strain, my core's decay.
The salty squints does sting as brine does know
Yet how my love beside with love withstood!
I tread and tread the ocean's sandy low
And mermaid blesses on with loving good:

Tho' currents depth and vastness have me bound
By mermaid's heart gifts mine that I'm not drowned.

How most do view of time, with great disdain;
By counting furrows that have sewn their face
And blame the clock whose ever tick remain
By seconds fail their age, bequeathing grace.
But of my love, she wears each crinkle proud
Time's not besieged, instead have given back
As said to time; 'my skin's my own allowed
That you dwell here, is not by willing lack'.
Her strength against time's power, power's pained
Have filled my blemished lines with youths of hers
Now I to face my own bear not time's stained:
My mirror turned from foe, now friend, refers.

For reign of time, with swift, devouring fame
Cannot her grace; her aged gifts mine no shame

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.

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.

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.

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!