Now once there was a maiden, a maiden was she.
She had a big heart for men like me.

She told me "O Joshua, just wait for me."
"I have to try one last time if only for me."

Now Joshua saw her tear drop, her teardrop saw he,
And he knew down deep inside how great is would be.

But he took up his music and gathered his robes
To prepare to make his travel down a dark and lonely road.

She said, "Now wait a minute; Here, take this little key."
"It'll unlock my heart when you come back to me."

O Joshua was a glad man, a glad man was he,
Saying "God bless that woman, her heart leaps up to thee!"

All I ask my lady as you read this poetry,
That in the dark times, remember little me.

The starlight caught a glimmer, a sparkle scarcely seen.
There was a little cherub just waiting in a tree.

it said, "Now, O Wand'rer, The Lord God sent me
To Grant some comfort; some comfort for thee."

The Wand'rer leaned forward, upon his crooked staff
and searched for his heartstrings left in the mountain pass.

"O cherub," Said the Wand'rer, "Please hearken to me...
I have but one request, if no trouble it would be."

"Please take now this flower, picked from fields of peonies,
and bring it to my lady; tell her not it is from me."

A boy and a girl met in distant wood.
The boy read to her poetry as best as he could.
She blushed and she curtsied to ease his nerves,
for his youth and his passions were no less than hers.

They roamed amidst the moss hanging down from the Oak
and hand on her *****, My Lady, she spoke:
"Dear boy now take easy my kiss on thy cheek,
for never I'd thought you'd make me feel so weak."

       "My Lady sweet, I kiss your feet
        for never I'd thought I'd an Angel meet."

The boy now more a man took his girl in his arms,
and knew she'd succumbed to his love, not his charms.
They walked towards the house leaving not one alone;
her father awaited, for her to be home.

He asked for her hand, may they soon become one;
One Hand and One Heart until all was done.
The father smiled kindly, "My son, she is yours.
Take care for my daughter, my bright Morning Star."

       "My Lady sweet, I kiss your feet
        for never I'd thought I'd an Angel meet."

The time came for a wedding 'midst springtime flowers,
And people gathered candy with toys 'neath the boughs.
He looked and saw his lady with bridal throng
and imagined, and remembered his midnight song.

       "My Lady sweet, I kiss your feet
        for never I'd thought I'd an Angel keep."

She hovered near the altar with peony flowers
and looked up through a white veil for what seemed hours.
The pastor with his bible said five sweet words,
and lovers, now angels flew up with the birds.



Long after laid an angel; stood all her kin round,
for later that day she would be underground.
her husband, her lover, felt something was wrong;
she could not go to sleep without hearing her song:

       "My Lady sweet, I kiss your feet
        for never I'd thought I'd an Angel meet.
        My Lady sweet, O cease to weep;
        for though you now sleep in my heart, you, I'll keep."

I already miss you.
Who can blame the poet for that?
no matter how passionate I am about being mature,
there will always be
that little child in me
that wants so badly
to yell and to scream
because you left me here.

I know you had to, I don't blame
you, my love, for that, but I
do have a childish desire to cling.
It's not something I do, that's a childish thing
to get used to doing. No Thanks, I'm no child.
A Man takes things in stride, and I got out of that car
confidently, and stood ***** and tall
though the inner me crumbled like so many
walls we broke down in ourselves this last week.

It's so easy to write poetry like this.
I remember high school,
when we'd all write angsty poetry with
dark titles and
strange vocabulary words we'd seen
in books we didn't understand.

but Who can blame the poet for that?

I already miss you but I already love you.
It's not like last time when I loved you and had you not,
left to my own devices, to watch you suffer
at the hands of someone who didn't know true love.

This isn't my best poetry, it's only a first draft.
but that's what you get.
I want you to have what I am, unfiltered
un-manipulated
unedited.

It's hard living this way, but I welcome it like Saturday Afternoon
and the delights it holds for us all
in order to await the coming of the dawn after a storm in the night.
I refuse to ever, ever fall.

I miss you my Love. I wish you were here...
Who can blame a poet for that?

Lonely summer lunches, smiling lady sit with me.
Who knew
Who could have known
You.
Me? I had no idea.
To say I knew would be a lie.
I could say I wanted to know and thought I knew,
But that would be unfair to you.

all you players wanna tap that, right?
you wanna chase her round the night
until you corner her by a sheet-less bed
and ***** her like she dreaded you would,
like you knew you would?
immature boys and your morning wood.

you would, you pig; take her out
and make her feel wanted, asking about
her life, her dreams but never hearing,
not even noticing her carefully chosen earrings?
her specially chosen shoes, carefully applied makeup
perfectly fitted black dress and waxed eyebrows; just for you -

- oh no; you won't even notice in your wrinkled shirt
and boxers caked with more than dirt.
but fine with you, you pig
you're probably not even that big…
just making up for lack of humanity;
your shallow sense and borderline insanity.

you won't even wash in a bottle of beer.
get the **** out, you’re not welcome here.

On black sheets
And silver pillows
I pledged a kind
Of oath to you
My love, my love?
Keeper of my coffee cup
Affections and
Bumblebee hive
Passions musings.

Sing to me love and light in a song
And I'll promise that only for you I'll long.

With tshirt lamp
And crystal glass
Kosher wines that
Taste of ash and
Dust in summer campfire
We made ourselves
Like remote batteries
And tuning slides
Together. A: 440

Sing to me of devotion and commitment with your voice.
And I could finally make a similar choice.

Promises made, promises kept.
I promised again even as you slept.