To when the lark shall sing me down the crust
And plant my best, for best you gave in me
And will; no coffin carry then my dust
For yours that blooms within, in death shall be.
Then from such love would sprout a blushing rose
And pierce the soil of bones to eye my stone.
No seasoned force compel your love repose
As when our pairing winds; had sought and blown.
Complex the flower's dye that shades of red
That spectrum meet our love of first to new
And tho' I lay in mine own final bed
Into that sunset find and live that hue.

Tho' each a drop you shed by way of grief
Shall too from rose then fall; a petal'd leaf.

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.

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.

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.

If I have ever lived to feel pure love;
No footprint of that love did leave in me
Nor does familiar scents of Cupid's prove
Send conscience into stupor love's decree,
Tho' had my loveless days, turned loveless years;
Deformed in senses, time - when lore did feel;
By thunder 'bout the grail of lover's peers
To where the ardent and my mind congeal.
Ah! Born was I to love, and not of stones
The hearted kiln has turned myself to mold;
What only I surmise to be of bones
Now void of love and void of that of old.

As to the testimony of my core:
I've never loved and nor shall evermore.

She was never one for churches;
the incense smells and clanging bells
priestly tells of Ave spells
the window tap from birches
last place you'd find her are churches.

Tho' a seraph aglow was she
of soften lips and rosehip tips
her sweeten grips did caress my hips
as passion flowed by decree
till life's source seeped and died did she.

I don't ever recall her in satin
now Goth's her plume and dark her tomb
in wreathy gloom my heart in loom
engraved in solemn Latin;
radiant tho' does she appear in satin.

I drench in rain from her kin
no words dare, heal their despair
each whimper and glare - a wraith I bear
as death against life did win
dripping, dripping off waters from her kin.

To the golden emblem above the dais
I whisper a hymn, out of me to him
light her husky dim and all her limb
and if she'll raise - onto you I'll praise
and worship you upon this dais.

Not often granted, even in churches
for love is lost, esprit crossed
my mind in frost, our past is glossed
'it dawns now my love' - a whimper searches
'why you were never one for churches'.

I'm in between the festive year of new
and tied by thought within the others past;
reflecting that of love with broken rue
for pain against the clock has still out-last.

The ticks along the road to heal divert
and beat of lover's strain as tho it were,
the face of time has waned and tears exert;
from in those ripple drops I've lived a-blur.

But still hearts cling to passing seconds by
as tho' each tick were latched abound with hope
Ah! Let the new year bring new love to try
and then from out the pain will time elope?

I've done my time within the hearted hurt
now nineteen bring me love! Leave grief inert.

The nightfall smears a biding shade and plume
as Nyx complexed the clear diurnal day
and skews the stoic lensing out of gloom
alike the hearted Eros, wrought his sway.

How still the specks of frost on balm and reed
like stars arranged in view for crystal eyes,
and glazed upon the tips; a sweetened mead
which lovers strive in truthful, purple prize.

A sullen stratus coats the idle orb
succumbs the amber beams to patchy lure,
and from within uncertain skies absorb
a kindred duel; dreamers must endure.

Tonight, the morrow, all thereon to be
to ardors flux; at night is when to see.

(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!

(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!

Reflective lining bears the passing years
of crinkles carved and worn to that of age
and from the mirrored galls a hearse appears
with thought to carry; when shall death upstage?

This day? When larks resound of warbling birds
as garden's glaze, the vernal blossom glows
amongst are playful kin of callow words
and yonder meadow green, my love in pose.  

Caressed by cherry blossoms, from a time
when youth we swayed beneath that ruby tree,
her amber curls would kiss verdure in prime
with lissom twirls that blessed my eyes to see.

When I shall drift away from worldly plush
and leave I shall, let not; in springtime lush.

O' take me off the deathly scribe! For now;
My heart does bid his bones to draw me not.
For mine new love could not neath stone, allow.
Yet pure to still relive past breath, than rot.
No grimmer fate than crawling dirt to sire
As meant for fair and sweet, not feast to dust.
Tho' laws of ashes still bids me to mire
Extend this time, then I will sleep that crust.
To reap one's source, then must have inner sight!
Then known this pith of mine; which rules my core,
Recall then death to when you lived such light
Then sure as all who lay; you'll wave me more!

O' rid me not to soil when love's too soon
May scythe withhold for love, and then let hewn.

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.

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.

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.

O' how I miss and mourn for mother's voice
That swiftly passed like Autumn's southern breeze
And took from Spring one less an Angel choice
That left my heart amongst the fallen leaves.
Appears the blossom tips were seeped that pain
As petals shader dark as love in mine
It too resounds in all the bird's refrain
As tho' their sadly tones; has mine assign.
Ah soon will summer rays then pierce my mourn
And shine that glow to when I lived a child
For mother's love is where my summer's born
And out that love my own has since been styled.

O' mother, yes mama I miss you more!
Than all the seasons brought and past before.

O' sandy shells, o' sandy shells; I know
Why pearly armor 'neath the sand conceal.
The whisper tells, the hearted tells of woe
From windy lisps, begotten ears then seal.
The hush foretells, that love foretells, of pain;
A grief that hollowed clams, collect and feel.
To ease the spells, that love-lost spells refrain,
That lovers old; with broken shells, can heal.
O' empty wells, o' loveless wells; rejoice!
As by the sea; the tiny shells will steal
The burning cells, the lovelorn cells and voice
And nestle where; nostalgic sands congeal.

Yes lover's bells, O' magic bells; let shine!
Turn not to shells, like many shells of mine.

As she and I do lay 'neath summer's noon
I quarrel with the sun; who loves her more?
For you do shine her glow, rename her June
That she does wear as sunlight ever wore.
Her ocean eyes turn rays to aqua blue
That she so welcomed them does aid your cause,
And tease in mine my mortal self and you
That struck her beauty so, my chest does pause.
And think that you; the purest, loves by day,
But I with extra eye have doubled sight,
To gift her twice the worship you relay
And thrice more when the lover's love by night.

O' sun, good friend, I fear I have you beat!
Tho' had that glow, me very near defeat.

Near the wavey waltz of beach
above are Gulls flocking by,
downward rays her beauty's peach
to carom and meet my eye.

Golden strands outshines the sands
and gazing pupils allure;
to deeply swim the ocean's hands
that cleanse lover's demure.

Winds ripple her amber dress
to homage summer's fashion
so lissom that I profess
her mine! Ashore of passion.

The hushing brine, splashes sighs
as to how her shimmer gleams
and none so ever arise
that'll match my lover's beams.

Let this diamond, kissed by sun
flow gently my love's decree
that she'll be mine, soon as one;
this rose's beauty will be.

With smile's high, and dripping eye
she exalts through salty air
"with love so vast, outdone the sky
of course! Now an eternal pair!"

In echo then, the seashells!
whom plush of Cupid's spree
foretells of ocean love spells
of her, me by lover's sea.

The cyclic seasons give a cause in soul
to view the mortal realm in seasons gone
for winter was our start and is our end
yet ice will always melt with Spring to dawn.

So sweet the Lillie's scent when sun rays win
buds fissure out and eyes of Spring to see
that if undone, the birds of love would sin
as oaks with none a leaf, could call a tree.

Auroral orb sustains and mirrors youth
so raised with graceful red and set to dark
that autumn wings atone and age with truth
so brought by winds to ice and left their mark.

We are mere tourists; in a season's change
so forge and live this well, for none exchange.

Partake no heart, with what you've done to mine
and leave no token lipstick stain to burn.
For you already swim, in comfort wine
that drowns the cells within my chest to turn.

Then plaque; unused desert will render mold
with sickly smells, your cancer love bequeaths.
I banish each recall of you; untold!
Retaking wind, from out your image wreaths.

Yes clutter none, no more in halls of love
and leave the healing, burden past to me;
to pray uncaged, my heart's own wounded dove
to love again, and revel love to be.

Now take your poisoned love and part my heart
for I shall heal, and bid my love, restart.

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.

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!

Go find for me in all of botany;
The rarest green amidst the sweetest mire.
That blooms of petals white like cottony,
Of growth 'twas serenaded by a lyre.
Replant with gentle skill by window's sill
Repose the eye that sunlight does not steal.
The blondy gaze, so fixed herein and still,
Unless the breezes kiss corona's seal.
Then flowered dance shall sway to hymns of bay
And whom shall follow trance'd with steady eyes;
Be titled botanist, of beauty's play.
Degree that yields each morn' when sun does rise.

Find that and glimpsed what fair does lay this bed,
But 'pare her side the flower, flower's dead!

Should I repose your memory about
The darker regions you have never been
Where even I don't dwell nor cast a doubt
For once condemned, remains in there unseen.
Then if I left you deep in nothing -space
The memoirs bound to love could not recall,
And leave me loveless so you had no face,
Proceeding mind, as tho' you weren't at all.
But I have need to summon you at will;
As since no fairer comfort then arrive
And then behest you hold what has you still
Whilst lives a mind that each our past derive.

Remember you! I shall with reels as true
Although it have believe, I still have you.

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.

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!

The sadness has me helpless as the sand
Awaits for waves to drown upon with salt
Yet even granules know when tides do land
But pain's unrhythmic swells are timed to fault.
With heaviness befalling on my view:
That better be the air, if none found here;
Nor ever were, nor should have been or knew,
For none about the Sun can mine endear.
Each breath deems stolen out from greater lungs:
A weary war my will is not to win
For yonder cloud is death and death's all tongues
Inhale for why? When lifers is life's sin.

Relentless as the waves, such flows the pain
But with me and have left the deepest stain.

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.

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!

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!

I know of beauty in the need of praise
For her own view of self does view defect
And cannot dream that eyes adore her glaze,
That needn't the sun nor light to gift effect.
The social sites appear to worsen her;
Perfection shown does taunt the blemished seen
Her radiance a - glow then turns to blur,
Until that youth becomes what has then been.
Tho' shyness plagues me, ink from mine can't shy
If she this sonnet read, rewrites her eyes,
Then she to her own beauty can't deny,
And I, her sonneteer maintain disguise.

Tho' if nearby she reads from this aloud
Then may just may, she'll glance me out a cloud.

As I do list the highlights left of me
In twilight of my life through memoir's reel.
I find on playback still the eye does see;
Her face of fairest light so spins this wheel.
And smiles me back wherein my youth's alive
To gift again my fresher self her hold.
And whilst she glows, my vibrancy survive
Then length that I do live, shall still uphold.
Ah! When these bones are left amongst the dust
Instilled is she that deep my ghost will make -
The times of her; my center force's ******,
And 'bout that force our times shall then remake.

Her timeless beauty; I do hold with all!
That she be here, and there when death shall call.

Despite a lonely glaze within my chest
that steady beat still drummed a pattern true
and had not missed; as lonesome would behest,
but pattered onward tho' it were anew.

Until the fairest gaze with hands sateen
caressed and conquered in, with dainty feel
that stroked, and wrought to change what peace had been
to tap behind my breast her fervent zeal.

At will, and touch she spurred a thumping pulse
as tho' my core were drums, and she'd out-play;
a trancing mood no man could then repulse
but let the beauty dance and waltz her way.

My gentled rapping churned, her grace outdone!
To thwart in that was mine, till then, she'd won.

When I behold the furthest shooting star
I wonder then; if best this heart be too
and beat beyond, where time and love are far
and leaves behind the maze, some lover drew.

Then I imagine space, as void of pain
and place my racing star on course to there,
that swiftly 'rived would heal as fast that came
dispose then back; into the Venus' lair.

Tho' love if idle long, is worse to reign;
what kingdom rules a chest without a heart.
Then take from love, is too that grief shall gain,
no shooting star could render this apart.

Tho' take mine briefly where no scar is known
But have then back; to grieve in lovers' own.

If I could shrink an ailing body piece
then from my chest dilute the torrid pain
that billowed when your love had parted lease
and drowns me in; a churning, scalding strain.

Decrease the ***** till the burning yields
and donor none, such grief is best to waste,
dispose where to; from other cores it shields
let feast by creatures, used to bitter taste.

If left with none to love, repose to sleep
in dormant I, then have no blood to give
for hurt would have no muse to reach as deep
nor then again let lovelorn wounds relive.

O' take this beating ball of lover's tar!
To drain her out my pulse, and mold no scar.

I fear not death, but death without rebirth
For how'll I'll doubly miss the southern spring;
The flowers past and future petal'd earth
Would sprout in distant plays of everything.
If far from view, then even worse a - fate,
As I without a touch will too not see;
The blossoms of my land and gentled mate;
For she does loves the spring as beauty; she.
Tho' be with heaven's angel's, high and sweet
Without my love and spring I'd barely breathe;
In yearn for her below and petal's treat,
Then best let I just lay with dirt my sheathe.

But wake me into light when she too passed
For into heaven, she'll bring spring to last.

As I beheld a star that weeps my eye
I plead and pry to glimmer brighter glow
as pledged in bedside woe by lips now dry
Marie awry; did then avow to show.

Distort no stellar veil - lie not to grief
whom seeks relief bestowed in speck of night
if none so shrine as bright; this meet be brief
I then debrief upon another light.

The choice of guise my love Marie so pined
is you remind of how she'd need arrive
for dark you thrive; so spread the mole to mind
left her behind, hence why - I now contrive.

Reveal her! Lighter of seraphs - that's mine
At last! Marie shines down on me - divine.

Let view your form now in the mirror's eye
Your words of thought, are none that match to mine
As yours speak blemish, wrinkles, ageing by
But I see true; that youth and glass align.
Reflecting that; of springtime glow of May
Arrays of buds are none when paired to you
And first your glance that welcomes me the day
Were first to shine, whilst sun; the second hue.
Still have you won, 'neath all of nature's lush
A beauty signed your birth with binding deeds
And out the sunset still; your redden blush
As tho' your face onto the sky it feeds

Know now you are as were when years were fresh
Ah, see! The lines have gone from out your flesh.

I wonder where the stillborn souls reside
from breathless births, the cherub orphan parts
to migrate; as the promised womb had lied
so close to air and lands with beating hearts.

The love is strong despite the eyes unseen
and rattles snatched in for a gilded wand,
no carat haze could meet what love had been
if cries were nurtured by a mothers bond.

If rearing love outweighs a seraph's love
no golden mother measure to replace
then is to reason; infants wait above;
until the babes and kin unite in space.

A haven till the babies lost reclaim!
O' stillborn wait for love as tho' became.

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.

If the azure glow of the ocean
is summers' own liquid crest
then the curling swells in motion
are the flag ripples in zest.

Unfurl! Fissure - our queen of salts
your pulse surveys our shores
kissing the sands in wavey waltz
and bequeaths the pearly spores.

Tepid husks under amber beams
yearn for littoral embraces,
quench all sheath burnt seams
and drench the basking faces.

Spray your song of briny mirth
tickle our drum-shells with hush
in whisper sing of tiding worth
breeze their sultry summer crush.

Bustling simpers ode your grace
sodden granule shrines arise
the hustle rush - infants chase
you splatter and belch in prise.

Shimmer the peach and the blue!
Wing the terns of whitish grey,
this season a-bore without you
vast emblems, of the golden day.

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!"

I write a grievance to the Reaper's will
who'll take me nether, just tho' it will be
yet hell is not my quarrel, hell's my bill
it is the season which the staff reaps me.

O' leave me when the summer sun meets blue
whilst rays respect with sprightly rippled glare.
Nor when a Winter's cold had light out-blew
for out the snow had meadows been as bare.

O' Spring! Not when the floral blossoms dream
of rainbow petals lipped that nature's birth.
Then left is Autumn, fitting; passing leaves,
then Fall I'll die, into the realm I'm worth.

O' grant me soul-consumer; seasons bide!
Let Autumn be, the scene from which I died.

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.

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!

Confession, me? Could I repent my time
And weary be, my pupils then to see
far-gone the dreams, beheld and shined my prime
it's all it seems, to rest and die with me.

Invent a past? The silence is the truth
and took at last, my pain where I had asked
goodbye old sun, the veil of haunted youth
the sorrow won, there I am now to cast.

One only song? Another may have sung
that here i'm strong, and here I could belong
to live by means, that spring the hearted young
my heart it cleans, the journey I prolong.

Yet here I lay, to burn in bright of day
I yearned the way, to rise but here I stay.

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!

It does appear to me that souls deceased
Whom passed by cancer's deadly spread of mole.
Are gifted special ride to heaven's priest
By shooting stars, to thrill their final roll.
From times of old when they did stare the stars
And ponder; may their time outshine their death.
But bodies virus'd, freckled with their scars
Then idle nothingness with loss of breath.
Whom suffer, fitting that a star it be.
And I do too in wonder when above
If there will be a star awaiting me,
And glance back down, good bye'ng those I love.

It seems that more of shooting stars fly by
How sad it is; how oft we glance the sky.