Out out brief candle...
I cannot agree with the darkening
Of the perishing of the just son
But it avails naught to show courage
Even for the noble cause.  Better
Than brave soldiering on; fighting
Against the dying of the light in a
War that is the womb of every sort
Of crime.  Is it not better to die
And be born again-to sleep; and
Perhaps dream a  better dream or
Not to dream, to wake or not wake
To signify nothing that I may be
Born again or not as God may let
Be ...At the end of the day. amen.
It is well finished this lover's quarrel.

In my father there was the  greatness
Of poetry-the poetry of greatness.
About true greatness is that it never
Is just was but is and will be.  The
Same is true of true poetry when the
Cliche is someone will hear it again as
When it was brand new and it will be
The echo heard down the corridors of
Time.  No-one speaks to all men, the
Lone man is the universal man and love
Comes again to the despised overcoming
All injury.  Greater than the greatest dreams
Realized the sun is a candle to the Father
He is gone and I shall not see his like again.

I ask where is my wonder I wonder
The greatest riddle there is If truly
Asked is always found; the search
For meaning, the reason for the
Quest is to know the wonder of
Wondering, the wonder of it all
To wonder peacefully, tirelessly
To know then the peace that is
Beyond understanding of such
Is Heaven and it can be known  
Here on earth in a child's eyes.

Oh
Eros how great thou art
Thou who serve  our God
You command us to fall
From our little pedestals
Of righteousness that for
Him are as naught-Fall in
A wilderness of darkness
Where we know no more
And doubt claims our soul
By right; where only Love
Love most merciful in grace
Does lift us back to the light
He remembers not our sins
For we knew not but were
As children as children still
To Him who always Loves
Let us with joy and thanks
Praise Him who cleansed our
Hearts of imagining evil.

If a man really knew the good
He would be good if he could
If a man knew love actually he
would always love if he could.
To know better is to be better
Ever increasing in knowledge
Of the good. To lose this is to
Sorrow.  But who among us
Knows how to always know
The good; even knows once
If he knows it not now.  the
Light is a gift.  Without the
Light one does not know the
Light nor where to go.  Do
We not equally vainly say to
Ourselves we are to blame as
As those who claim merit that
They are better off.  The gift of
The light is needful to us; when
It is known it will be sought by
Us because it is good for us. So
We are told to wait upon the
Lord for He will light our way.

Come
my little dreamer friend
I love you.  Do not let me
Dream alone.  Let us play
In the pleasant land and
Know all the joyful hours
that are ours.  Then let
Sleep come and take us
Weary to our bed till full
Of rest  we wake to dream
Again of our never ending
Love

Oh sweet vanity calling forth
Praise of all you would desire
To be true; of a self that could
Only be known to God that
Fervent lover of all that is child-
Like and as He meant it to be;
And so you believed that men
Were true and Godlike too.
Oh- that it were so is a conceit
Yet also great charity to all us
Here below for yet it might
Be  if we our own good; and
For our own sakes knew better
With what perfect love and so
Marvelously we were made.



for the women I  love and should
have loved more.