Too long I've implored Love's ministry,
Too long grim silence has reigned;
If Love would only beckon to me
No bonds could keep me constrained

What foolishness might I contemplate,
Deeming it necessity?
Through weeds and thorns, barefoot I would run,
If Love should beckon to me

Ignoring the rules of Good Judgment,
And placing my trust in Chance,
I'd fly to Love, bounding all hurdles,
With nary a backward glance

So weary am I of solitude,
So bereft of joy and hope;
Time has carried all my dreams of Love
To realms far beyond my heart's scope

But I've heard that Love can resurrect
A dream lying cold in its grave;
And so I cling to that beacon of hope,
Despite all the tears that I gave

I want to feel the euphoria
Of falling under Love's spell;
(Pay no heed to the years that I wear --
Youth had its own tales to tell)

Yes, at times Love can seem indifferent --
Cruel and willfully cunning;
But I'll be neither judge nor jury . . .
Should Love beckon, I'll come running!

A sweet  smile greets all who meet her,
With no hint of the pain concealed;
But her poems paint a self-portrait,
Where the truth is boldly revealed

Each word that her pen releases
Is a fateful stroke of the brush:
Sunlit paths that led to dark places,
The brief joys that Fate chose to crush

Sad tales are etched with precision
Upon this warped canvas of Time,
Describing the heartaches that linger,
Urging her to cloak them in rhyme

Are lonely days not distressing
Enough  for this painter of verse?
And yet night deprives her of slumber,
As memories refuse to disperse

But pity offers no solace --  
Fate's cruelty has taken its toll,
Leaving her to walk this Earth alone
With weary heart and blighted soul

Playing Life's dubious Game of Love
She was nothing more than a pawn;
Well does she know her fate has been sealed . . .
Long ago her portrait was drawn

I'm staring at a blank sheet of paper
     on the desk in front of me,  
It's just begging to embrace a new poem,
     but I have this theory:
I'll prove I'm stronger than this silly urge
     to be seduced by a rhyme;
I'll not surrender to such balderdash,
     my self-control is sublime;
A smug little smile creeps over my face --
     but O, how the urge beckons . . .
O, Lord, I must write!  Self-control be ******!
Well, that took all of ten seconds

They say 'tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have known love at all;
They have no clue what this sampling may cost . . .
Love can cause empires to rise and fall!
A heart, once content, becomes tempest-tossed,
Each little cloudburst feels like a squall;
I'd rather my lonely sea not be crossed ---
My heart won't be a fickle love's port of call!

The sun arose, its duties to uphold  
In its usual, resplendent style.
While flaunting its rays of orange and gold,  
Proudly it rose, with an unsettling guile.  
But I wasn't moved by this garish display,  
For I find no joy since love went away  

And why does the moon glimmer so brightly?
The sun and moon --- a heartless duet!
I find their demonstrations unsightly,
A disgraceful breach of etiquette;
Such indifference causes me agony,
For I find no joy since Love turned from me

Just listen to those warblers in that tree--
Their once-welcomed songs lack appeal;
How dare they sing amidst my misery . . .
How can my broken heart hope to heal?
O, forgive my tone so doleful and wry,
But I find no joy since Love said good-bye

Come, Love, fly homeward to my heart once more --
Heal the dying dreams of yesterday;
Don't leave me standing alone on Life's shore --
(I'd rather the tide swept me away!)
Even Angels in their heavenly lair
If bereft of Love would flee in  despair!
          
But life marches on the same as before --
And the Earth still orbits the sun,
And each day my heart breaks a little more
Facing solitude when day is done;
Though fearing derision, I'll not be coy . . .
To live without Love is to live without joy!

I finally have to admit it,
Though it brings a mountain of grief,
Despite his look of innocence,
The man that I love is a thief!

It all began when first we met ---
To my surprise he stole my heart;
But the man cannot help himself . . .
He's cunningly skilled in this art

In daylight hours or dark of night
His boldness astonishes me!
He'll steal a kiss, then take my love . . .
(I'm in awe of his strategy)

While whispering sweet things in my ear
He then steals my will to resist;
And when he leaves I'm robbed of peace ---
(In his absence, threats still exist)

My dearest thief, please be assured,
There is no need to steal from me;
Simply ask me for what you want . . .
I'll give it to you willingly!

My heart throbbed with Love's expectations
As he pressed his lips to my ear;
Passion's voice eagerly whispered
Forbidden words I longed to hear

Each kiss evoked thrills beyond measure ---
How they left me gasping for air;
But, O, when his face rested on mine
And his fingers tangled my hair!

So warm was his breath and his sighing,
Like the embers of passion's fire;
Then a gentle stroke of his hand
Ignited the flames of desire

I smiled as he struggled to tell me
What his eyes so clearly revealed;
But no words had to be spoken --
The fate of our love had been sealed

So close was the blissful surrender,
I could feel the beats of his heart;
So close to ecstasy  . . .  and then,
Suddenly, it all fell apart!

The warbling of a bird awoke me,
Then my eyes caught the sun's first beam;
So close had I come to Heaven . . .
But it was no more than a  dream