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!

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

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.

At times I think: those whom overcome with sadness
Overbear'd by an unshakable heaviness
Haunted by one shadowing and relentless thought
To end their body, mind and existence here on earth,
Actually live on in spirit, drifting within the winds
Caressing those who mourned their untimely passing.

I wonder if after the deed was done and spirit left
Was the immense sorrow of loved ones lingering,
Resounding around their spirit like a ring around a planet.
Circularly rotating, the bitter taste of a mothers tears
Currents of mourning waves from the memorial,
Compelled by remourse to return and comfort those left behind.

A breeze to such a spirit; a haze of misty darkness
Drifting through doubts and what could have been
What was lost and never to be again,
To linger and flow until all have passed on.
I sense it sometimes in my internal quietness
A companion gone in teenage years whispering,
Through a hush; I miss you my friend.

I feel that someday the same fate awaits me
How close I have come to drifting in that windy haze
To again be near my lost friend, away from this pain
Yet I foresee the misery anguishing in the hearts;
Of those whom bonds I have forged
And I realize for now, the winds are free from me.

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!

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.

(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.

(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!

Wherein the haven, my own stillborn child?
The cradle couldn't illumine gilt enough
or crafted pure, as love and kin is styled
even if cushioned - in abodes of fluff.

To wonder, eases tears regarding why
and tunes the silence of idle bluebirds,
as Springs' rebirthing season traversed by
which lingers only clouds of greyish girds.

As I remain within the sombre sky
and plead of brighter days - to this unborn,
it dawns as timely - everyone shall die
and light shall perish all the darkened mourn.

Wherever wings the baby souled divine
assure to find - O' little one, and mine.

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.

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.

Should I inform the pages of our bed?
Could words have words for what is most unsaid,
To not, has then this poet failed it's stead;
To write that which the heart to-pen has led,
Then if I claim me poet, I'm deceived;
By self to self committing grievous fraud,
The worsen kind my show by stage received
And all the future works reveal me flawed.
But write then here, then I to my muse proved;
You dance upon my words to finger tips,
And tap our only truths, your eyes approved -
And wetted, dripped from out your loving lips.

Become my write, oh lovely muse of mine!
Our night shall be as ink, is to our wine.

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!

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!"

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!

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.

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.

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.

Before the lonesome blackness comes, let know
By candle lit, your light lives in new breath
And bless-ed birth your fairest self bestow:
No beauty cease in-all, in ceaseless death,
For you're as young again as you saw waned
Tho' mine views youth of new and yours the same-
But eyelids drape with drops of salty stained-
Abundant tears, since they're now where it came.
As you thereon, shall I thereon have grew-
And lover's flower made have blossomed on,
That there in time, times two extend of you
And onward glow past that have known you gone.

But shall not tears wet on our future tree,
Despite your state shall prove, you outlive me.

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.

When all your summer's joy'd and joyous gone
What beauty kept, that golden days not melt?
Yourself dispose of them when winter's won
And leave to cold, but now to yours have felt,
The furrowed on your skin, the time you waged
Against the jewels left, once from their gained
But they with grace and glow do wear their aged,
It's you with wrinkles tied your spirit waned,
For ravaged is your cover, as within-
Now spurned outdone to self, now aged alone;
Not by your arm holds one of beauty's sin
It's end that must withhold and let atone.

But if those summers be the best again
Then wait no thought, shall they the same as then!

If time shall prove you breathe whilst I cannot
And that same gentled breath need mourn for me;
Then tear me far from soil, for there I'm not.
But where your tears of love had come to be;
As there I'll swim to ease the pain of love
For love had once to flow, but then to cry,
Seek not my soul from ever skies above
As you I've loved and there I'll live to die.
Yet if you doubt my presence, dream the time;
When younger eyes had met with younger days
And I will whisper mine in sweetest rhyme
'My love in daze as first we were to gaze'.

I'll drown a thousand deaths in thousand tears
But soon you'll know, my love outlasts the years.

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!

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 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.

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!

Dearest mother
if time entwined and did reverse
I would visit you and no other
for golden landmarks I' traverse
to behold you again with my brother.

Take me in time and stall
to son again in your embrace,
of plumage wings - my Great Wall
and that seraph auroral grace;
a thousand daisies in the fall.

Simper again your lullaby tune
when restless fought a pillow
and silvery specks of moon
caromed each - off a willow
cavorting clefs of boon.

My love is more than the birds
when upward gazing them by
sensing your essence that girds
in each dove whimpered sigh
amorously warbling your words.

In this poem - I write true
the psalms of your inner way;
'as sure that your eyes are blue,
my child reared by the bay,
even in death - I love for you'.

I mourn the dead too often in the sun
And stare the rays as tho' it were a death
Not mine, nor yours, but till my all feels none
And what I give in thought, is lost in breath.
That air does brush the pain, yet not improve
As in that breeze so travels ends to means
With whispers hounding of a timeless move
That ever in a time - now timeless scenes.
I dwell in dreams that were, tho' never won
And offer plainly a discourse to tell
That I, gave them no chance, not even one
To grow inside a mind that grows as well.

To that of mine, no claim bequeaths my will
Let I as dust just sit, on widow's sill.

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.

I chase numerical dreams for vocation
ever grasping for untouchable horizons,
counting sand granules
piling leaves in size order
according to shades of ochre.

Then release
to hobby with words
build castles of sentimentality,
sparkle yonder meadows with dew
wetted by inner calligraphy.

Poetry to feather my dust -
echo pain-stained syllables
resounding morosely bound verses,
liberating caved bats
flapping to rhythms
pen strokes.

Launching boulders
onto unvarnished whiteness
once rolling to and fro
on my emotive wolds,
grasslands may grow again.

Pasting tokens of lost love
shrouding texts with torment
stamping lingering wraiths,
least they not prance
for a-while.

Worlds drip-dry here
under auroral poetry
a chance to breathe;
fresh crisp air -
of expressiveness,
I arrived - stayed.

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.

Take out the heart from all my ardent loves
And find you'd weigh as slim as did before
How add to hands what hands already gloves?
Whom holds is loved and loved as lover's lore.
Before you knew my love, my love you owned
As by the stars have mapped you always did,
And chants from Dharma have our love intoned
To speak for mine that others I outbid.
But with such chorus could you still refuse?
Then what you'd grasp does deem my loving self:
A gem with sweetest thief of idle use,
Yet lover hold my worth despite yourself:

That may my heart you'll choose as lover's choose
Yet what decides, what's yours you'll never loose.

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!

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.

the springtime sun is zenith near the noon
caroming ray-beams twinkle tips of dills
and stipple violet limbs with specs of boon
that sparkle lime upon the yonder hills

unvarnished whitish patches paste the sky
azure befriends the fluffy glands of spring
as watchful father plays and hides the eye
then bides no shade, but back the glows it bring

far choirs of nimble scouts forage the plains
a southern breeze resounds the chirping worth
which sings to beats of rustling; newer gains
orchestral music plays the mother's mirth

the floral rainbow births a budding maze
how baptized! richly soils that hue the lobes
an honor flowed with winter's snowy glaze
for waters were the forest's frozen robes

a flower's cycle lends to thoughts in own
that spectrum grown and splayed; shall too within
partake in growth for life that's vast to roam
and plumes from sprouting wings shall leaf herein

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.

To dearest love of mine, that has yet been:
Tho' sight reveals you not, by love I know;
Your kindly wit will bid our love be seen,
But caution to such heart before it's show;
Refrain from early use of words of love
For I will hide as night does hide the day
And echo in my wake: a mourning dove
With water drops from setting suns of may.
Yet if so patient, as does hope create
This love of yours be gifted, soft the touch
And then your tones will have no cause to wait
To shout about our love, that loves as much.

Then time's our distance, sweet and darling one
'Till then tho' I will wait, where love is numb.

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.

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.

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.

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!

Removing jealous nerves from out my brain
You'll view the surge your seeking eye had made
And if so fluttered harmless, why disdain?
Deny these blackened patches; flirt arrayed
And hold no nose, alluring perfume's age
To bitter scents of envy, wreaking mine,
That seeped a clouded haze, our lover's stage.
To live such mist; I doused my lungs with wine
As then the words are slurred to least offend
For stupors dwell where love's received in mind
Not there I quarrel, there true love's on mend
But here, the tease has love completely blind.

If known the potent nerve behind your strays
Then grasped the luring swill; of drunken days.

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.

Worthy art thou of glowing praise - in all the ways
so humbly I ode - an emotive rhymed bode,
of lyrics that flowed - from an ardent felt daze
brighter than the heavens ablaze,
so scribed in phrase - your blessed rays:

Blessed art thou blue eyes - of azure dyes,
once dipped in motion into the oceanic potion,
by seraphs with the notion - that thine eyes match the skies,
oh heavens hath let thee rise,
Aphrodite thy guise - art thou blue eyes.

Blessed art thou with gentle tones - of angelic moans
crafted by the wails that drifted Gaelic sails
flowing in trails - of sea queens and their thrones
a simpering grace thy voice clones,
shattered with groans - my hearted stones.

Blessed art thou of amber hair - radiant fair
woven in piles in rarest of the styles
scented in isles - where live roses flair
of lippy shaped kisses they bear,
from mountains I blare - I adore your hair.

Blessed am I to be - favored by thee
tanning in passion of true valentine fashion
carved in ashen - our love branded tree
oh blessed could I ever be,
so worded in spree - my ink coated glee.

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!

When I do love you'll know you have been loved
For heart's like mine do serve it's Queen's own suit
And shame with whom this pride yet cheats by gloved.
As twenty plus that two has no refute,
Deny tho' him by playing then again
Yet shows on red the black the false accrued;
Then she would query this: the tell of vain;
And read beyond the card, his hand delude!
But play do I for greater stake from you:
You'll be my Queen when all the Kings are dealt
And tho' me be a Jack or Ace or two
It's they my love I bluff, by you I've knelt.

Your graceful turn, oh holder of all hearts
To play for love? Or break me into parts!

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!

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!'