What spirit drives the thunderbolts?
Whence comes the fury of the rivers,
What feeds the winds, what fount
Supplies the immeasurable ocean?
What pathway of the sun hastens
Or draws out the course of night?
Long have my own birds sung my doom,
And tears bedewed my face,
Reflecting tracks remaining in heaven,
And the zephyrs path gleams bright.
‘Tis you, forever, and always,
My true delight!

You removed your delicate hand away
From your *****, and sprinkled
Stardust upon the moon tonight.

While the clouds obeyed her secret palms,
She parted them enough
For her borrowed light to shine through.

Her beams glittered cataract diamonds,
As any found within Leone’s chest;
Upon boulders centred within this field.

So I approached, aloft, pedestal-like,
And mimicking David’s marble form
Gleaming bright in the Florence midday heat,

With no less than a thousand eyes
Gazing upon his dreaming stare,
I perched and mused of my lady-fair.

While above, each star hummed
It’s distant faint tune, and twinkled
Their beat towards Earths gentle breath.

I inhaled the air freezing this night;
Into, not only my lungs,
But my heart reached over to lend her appetite.

Aided by the cool soft wind,
My voice was never the more raised
Above a lonely child’s whisper.

Thus I began: ‘I thought of how
This glorious globe, with her wondrous hue,
Is the envy of all these great spheres,

‘And to muse with the ebb
Of immeasurable times flow
Over the laments of my darling dove,

‘To relay through my mind,
All the moments I could
Have been with your willing body,

‘The many scenes I should
Have been with you. Those times
I should have said exactly

‘What I felt when you were with me,
When I possessed you
Within my gaze. I rue those chances,

‘And missed opportunities. Know that
You occupy my slumbered visions
From when sleep closes my eyes,

‘Till the birds of dawn awakens them.
And as the year closes,
Since first I kissed your smooth cheek,

‘Know humbly, within your breast,
That you were the shining beacon,
A light which guided me over stormy seas.

‘I pray, realise my words,
Softly spoken from the pages sent
To your hands, were meant for your heart,

‘And your smile, mixed with glances,
Were always a true delight
You bestowed on to me.

‘I let you bathe in my soul,
And I truly thank you,
And forever sing your name aloud.

‘I sit alone here under a chilly
Suffolk night and think
The heavens bright of you.

‘Months have fled, and ease of
My sorrow toward the sky
Is a gift I must offer for my changeless love.’

And ending, ‘Take what you wish, my dove,
But please, I beg on bended knees,
Please, do not take my memory of you.’

These words were cupped on the north wind,
While the moon spread a veiled
Duvet of polished silver over the field,

Spilling dew upon the grass
Bleeding from her sheen, moist,
Velvet sheets of liquid nectar.

Before my eyes, the grass stood to attention.
A million green-eyes begged
More from my heated pores.

Amazed; for rooted to the soil,
Adding immense weight to the ground;
They calmed their sway to my measures.

Clouds rushed over to hear, even
The rested sun-chariot peeped
Back over the forbidden western shores.

The birds of day appear, crying
A chattered song for the suns yearning.
Clouds began to weep uncontrollable tears.

As a ripple from a pond, speeds
Over the smooth surface towards
The shade of the blessed river bank,

As did a wave flow from one end
Of the field to these boulders,
And with fresh breath, these blades spoke,

And graced my ears with speech:
‘Oh soon to be spirit, we can sense
What is about to come on to you.

‘Your love, you love, with every
Drop of blood that beats
Within ones heart, we envy you.

‘Can there ever be a time,
Where eagles roar; when lions fly;
Lambs bite; or wolves graze on us?

‘Ever an instance, a time to come,
Where the moon becomes the sun,
In turn, the giver of life, the moon?

‘When the earth, herself, slows,
And rotates back along her axis?
Men born old; death at birth?

‘Hills, majestic sloping hills, iron flat?
Rivers become grain; ocean freeze over;
Skies, and air, turn to solid?

‘Science; vain in being,
Predicts too much; and beauty
Is lost forever in her words.

‘May some farm boy look through
A hole in that there fence,
And sneak a peak at me,

‘May he run to his herd and tell
The leader of the flock the sight
His eyes just bore in witness.

‘For your cries; may a sudden
Rush of blush greet your lady’s cheeks;
May her legs tremble; her hips grow weak.

‘Let the once ferocious deep blue
Calm his waves, and in his face,
Mirror the skies glorious expanse.

‘The moon; may the moon, believe
That she is not eternally alone,
Swimming in the inky black;

‘Let her study her reflection;
And fall in love with her new mate.
May the stars, count not all, shrink

‘The distance between themselves,
Place tender arms around one another,
In a much longed-for embrace.

‘Finally; may Orion, when touching
Western waters; let him relinquish his sword,
And stem the rains from the bellowing east.

‘We feel your pain!’ And they ceased.
They too, felt my joy.
For my wonderful words spun;

Mingled with undiluted wine placed in a
Golden goblet from a heart-stricken tongue;
Which lapped the chilly air while I spoke freely.

‘I knew once a sweet tender maid,’ I began,
‘And without diminishing
The daughters of this night away from you,

‘I will swiftly say she became my voice.
And as the buds burst free
From winters icy hold; and as around

‘Earths eternal prisioned orbit
Spans another of her quarters,
When the sun strikes intense onto Saharan sands;

‘I was with her, and she with me too.
She graced my songs with galloping mane
And eagle striking ***** of wind.

‘She tenderly flowed through my veins,
As any stream from high sacred fountains;
Any river that deposits into sea;

‘Any artists stroke from his brush
To canvas, that paints oil drenching
Figures of unrivalled beauty.’

I paused my strain, and glanced
At our moon, hung high; hung also;
On my every word, halting her route.

‘And with this’, I continued, ‘and your tones
You gifted to me upon these boulders,
I take this poisoned flower from out my pocket.

‘My young blood presented this to me,
Long ago; for the sun has yoked
His steeds passed four full moons since.

‘He too, my brother, calls aloft
To the tunes of music; he too,
Guides his hand to the strums of natures beats.

‘Against that aged oak, with acorns
Spread at its feet, my brother, leaning
His back to its wrinkled trunk,

‘Plucking in harmony strings which,
In his blonde presence never lay slack;
And flinging away his melodies on the breeze,

‘Spoke thus; “If any time on your travels,
A day presents itself, when you find
Yourself sitting upon those boulders there;

‘“And the moon in her glory,
Glows a frosty crystal white, and the voices
In their millions sway to your laments,

‘“Eat this; for your time has come.
One night waits for all of us and all must
Walk the path of death, and walk it only once.

‘“Look to your moon, and bade it goodbye.
Glance at the grass, and bid it adieu.
And say, above all, farewell to your lady.”
So I eat, and sing farewell my love, with a kiss.’

Until the sun rises up from eastern seas, may I be in your heart.

May the morning-star look forth from mounted flight;
May he chase, and flick the darkened heels of night;
And send beams cast down on your smile crystal bright;
From the depths of the ocean to the furthest heavenly light,
Sweet dreams my most wondrous sight;
Tender slumbers, me undeserving of you, my true delight

1.
Travel through the woods on a summer's day,
Worries of daily chores dream endlessly away.
Captive not, are we from natures luscious breast
Soak within Apollo's warm oval'd gleamin' crest.
Captive not, as mother earth, weaves her sorcery spell,
Whistle with the wind to hear where hedge-sparrows dwell.
The passion'd view before my eyes, I restrain from weep,
For court'd law, Satan'd, bathes us in shrouded deceit.

2.
Draw the air sacred belongs to every breath,
Lack there of faith, time, now, life and death.
Makes a-wonderin' in the wood on a summers day,
Bring Milton's sirens; sing their note to the authors sway.
Five senses, being, soul, was gave human-kind,
The Zephyr bids the breeze to flutter the leaf, forces blind.
Let the trees reach high, those clouds few crawlin' slow over blue sky,
Gaze upward from a-new clearing I found, now where I lie.

3.
The song I sing you from the lazy day of today,
Brings forth illuminous colours from this wood in sunny May,
To show us all the mundane lack of our own lives,
Livin' the pressur'd tasks of Henrys forsaken already wives.
To stress surely not, about obvious waste of things,
Can't you see Constables paintings of what nature brings?
The absolute amazement, of how everyday hits our eye,
To leave an imprint, however deep, as stars roll by.

4.
Humming the tunes of Virgil, Dante, Chaucer and Keats,
Washing your bliss with the strums of nature's beats.
Scrubbin' this modern life's hectic ebb and flow;
Where's the wonderment gone from this wood'd meadow grow.
Simple treats of sweets greet our presence every time,
We open our thoughts, our minds, and enter into sublime.
Stories are told, heard, forgotten, written down;
For so this earths beauty be not dismiss'd, for worth of a crown.

To cheer you up, I'll compose,
Prepare for my rhyme,
Feel free to dance along,
It will be not a crime!

When's your break today?
Has it been hard?
Is't the same for me again
Is your time barred?

Tea or coffee,
Is all I ask?
Trying to see my muse,
Seems a tell-trying task!

If your quiffed blonde hair,
Your fair skin, heads my way,
In hope, I'll await for your smile,
In the olde Sole Bay.

‘Tis I, your Bee, whom graciously implores your thanks,
In which your sweet vision resides within my memory.
A pure star twinkling bright as any of those fiery lamps,
And with delicate tongue I write to you, my muse Emily,
For my wearied creative air, your gentle breath revamps.
‘Twas in heaven where I believed sole divinity dwelt,
Until my eyes welcomed waves lap upon their shore;
Never have my veins flowed as swift nor my heart felt,
A blazing white beauty my caress does wish to explore,
And the world spins here with sense as not like before.
While the clouds grow tall from horizons distant blue belt,
On the eastern wind, my every kiss is blown to your door.
Toward the sky I often gift a raised brow and humbly thank,
For all moments of your true pleasure in which I gladly drank.

Thousand thunderous tones continuously smash walls,
Shouts, the constant shouts of deafening pitch shriek.
Echoing vibes loudly quiver mimicking tyke calls,
Make living conditions unbearable here so too speak.
As passing hours swoop by, vision of pale white cheek
Creates an environment within endurable in a mind,
Still even now understands not why I left you behind.


Those memories, that we are thankfully blessed with,
Too simply close your eyes lie back and fly away.
All the recounts of stories, song and a ye' old myth
Held on a tip and flung just as quick the tongues sway,
Gently fluttering the air in a kind of a childish play.
Towards my god, I humbly give thanks so I thank.
Within my heart, all memories of you I gladly drank.


Prime flowers spray their scented aroma over green,
Whilst the honeybees hoard yellow buds of ambrosia.
Encircled by sweet tender winds and sun shines sheen,
Bathing light duplicating your lips of the genus rosa,
My lovin' breast heaves fondly with warmth of Jehovah.
Fading squalls diminish dreaming emphatically of you
Opportunistically implorin' to sweep up your essence hue.