The Darkest Chasm,
the coolest dark,
The empty nights, of pillow coddling,
empty smiles, and days of hopeful longing
glances across the room at you
who I wish would notice me and come to my arms.
Nay, it cannot truly be
for you are deeply engrossed with another,
tho' he may questionable,
I sit idly by,
longing,
wishing,
dreaming,
I pray soon my feelings are returned

Whatsoever you shall do in life,
whether it is the writing of rich literature,
or walking a road till old age supersedes you.
Do what you do with grace and
heart, so that it shall be of simple
beauty and greater value,
for life wasted with idle antics and in
pursuit of useless kicks, is hardly
worth the time to live, and boast.

Life should blossom a thousand
new adventures, and an endless supply of
merry memory, tho' only a few shall be of
sorrow, pain, and hardship.
Such is life.

I've meandered the dusty roads,
and seen the rusty machines in fields.
I've wallowed in the pools of self-pity,
and sorrow 'neath the yellow streetlight.
Such is my life.

If I were a painting
hung upon a wall, be I a
painting of flowers, ships or sheep,
it would be of no major concern.
For should my owner have a change
of season, he might remove me
and put another, perhaps more
sought after painting,
I hang on feelings and ratings,
though I am skilfully crafted,
my flaws determine whether
I should rise or fall.

Walking through a dim lit street,
recent rains pleasant stench lurks in puddles,
and the puddles, which reflected softest starlight,
the odd cars steady rumble as it passes,
the softening heart in the loneliness,
that when he leant upon the sandstone balustrade,
delicately ornate along the rivers edge,
and watching the canal boats drift on by,
as did time.
he in his depth and solitude, pondered
all his steps, wondering which step was wrong or simply,
out of place.
He had lost that which he had placed the
most value, and sadly it beat him down.
Tho' the starlit riviera, of this damp town,
was a quick relief to his aching
heart, which were torn asunder,
from a ill-thought blunder.
Oh well he thinks, as he walks down the lengthy path,
beside the starlit reflective river.

I love you in the spring time,
I love you in the fall,
I love you in every season in between,
whether its the bitter winds of winter,
the scorching heat of summer,
the heralding rains of Autumn,
or the blooming nature of Spring,
I love you in them all,
whether it is the bright blessed light of day,
or the dim lit starry night,
makes no difference to me,
no such things like time, distance,
or circumstance shall defer me,
I am persistent, perhaps tenacious,
when it comes to love.
To stand upon the rooftops,
and let aloud a cry of love,
a bold declaration,
tho' it may be rejected and I shall
fall to my knees in rejections shadow,
but still again I will rise,
for love always finds a way to thrive
similar to a ****.
Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter,
these four seasons I shall love you.

A flame of Holy ordination
and ignition, shall not soon
burn out and falter.
This flame though a wick it
surely hath, will not expire,
tho' should you cover it
all its bright light shall fade,
let this light beam boldly
into shadows and all shall
tremble and fear.
This flame of Holy ordination
lit with the softest touch,
grows brighter and fiercer,
tho' not in anger or hate,
but passion, and should
this flame lose that bright passion
then I surely would weep, and
prostrate myself in search of
re-ignition, for this flame is better
for five minutes than darkness eternity
in darkness,
I earnestly seek this flame.