A rainbow is a beauteous thing,
Its wonder we behold!
And ponder if we’d ever find,
The elusive *** of gold.

If it were not for the sunshine,
And the clouds upon the sky.
There would not be such colours,
Such beauty by and by.

There would not be the promise,
That is in every stroke.
There would not be the wonder,
Of the mercy God bespoke.

And how often do we miss it?
The elusive rainbow not see?
And just keep travelling onwards,
That through the *** of gold we would be free.

But freedom comes from the beauty,
Of the sunshine and the clouds.
The journey that we travel,
The joy and troubles found.

They each compliment the other,
Would bring out our true colours see?
And create a beauty more wondrous,
Than any other you would see!

So friend as we would travel,
This journey of our life.
Lets remember the beauteous rainbow,
The promise of eternal life.

Lets know that through our troubles,
We would just require the rain.
And soon will come the sunshine,
To bring out our beauty again.

And through this wondrous beauty,
Others too perhaps may see
The gold is in the rainbow,
The end is where we be.

I fear the way you love me:
That tender-touching kiss
Seducing me to nightly
Sink deep in your abyss.

Those smooth caresses take me
To places that I dread,
Your cunning fingers rouse me
To plan such lies ahead.

But while we writhe and tumble
In lust's hypnotic hold,
I fear the final stumble
That will see the truth unfold.

My own dear love, he is strong and bold
And he cares not what comes after.
His words ring sweet as a chime of gold,
And his eyes are lit with laughter.
He is jubilant as a flag unfurled--
Oh, a girl, she'd not forget him.
My own true love, he is all my world,--
And I wish I'd never met him.

My love, he's mad, and my love, he's fleet,
And a wild young wood-thing bore him!
The ways are fair to his roaming feet,
And the skies are sunlit for him.
As sharply sweet to my heart he seems
As the fragrance of acacia.
My own dear love, he is all my dreams--
And I wish he were in Asia.

My love runs by like a day in June,
And he makes no friends of sorrows.
He'll tread his galloping rigadoon
In the pathway of the morrows.
He'll live his days where the sunbeams start,
Nor could storm or wind uproot him.
My own dear love, he is all my heart--
And I wish somebody'd shoot him.

254

“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted *****
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While abstract insight wakes
Among the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's sensual ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of midnight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find your mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

Memories like you dont always shine true.
Nor do old places hold that magic.
In a life so short.
That seems so traggic.

Im thinking of forever  while slowley fading  away.
Oh such clear thinking  on a cloudy day.

A summer ago is when we met.
So far now it seems.
Yet the still my heart holds no regret.

The poetry you inspired apon this very page.
Is ment to complment a love without age.

Early morning memories that you've lent.
Is simpley a dream of time well spent.

A dark sky hides the sunlights ray.
Such is the clear thinking on such
a cloudy day.

Im not blind yet for years  
hope has went unseen.
Sometimes age can taint a sweet dream.

Turning bitter the once colorful
fruit.
Killing wonder straight at the root.

A love like our's has kept with change.
And grown in definance.
Like a silly game.
We formed this this passion swept Alliance.

First with love you must blindly fall.
Then you must try to run when you
can bareley crawl.

To outlast the storms is to stand against the wind.
To ignor friends and to put trust in
a stranger and depend.

Many thoughts run through my head.
In the early morning as she lay against me
in bed.

A heart has many rivers a soul is a endless sea.
As we apart we are caged.
While togather we are free.

From this loves eternal bliss  my heart should never
stray.
As i sit clear is my thinking on such a  cloudy day.

I would liken you
To a night without stars
Were it not for your eyes.
I would liken you
To a sleep without dreams
Were it not for your songs.

1568

To see her is a Picture—
To hear her is a Tune—
To know her an Intemperance
As innocent as June—
To know her not—Affliction—
To own her for a Friend
A warmth as near as if the Sun
Were shining in your Hand.

I do not lie in solitude
I’m with a thousand friends
Let go the saddened attitude
For nothing ever ends

I am the rustling in the trees
The dew and falling rain
Raise yourself from off your knees
You won’t hear me complain.
Whenever blackbirds whistle
And frogs on lilies croak
It’s only me that’s calling
Although I haven’t spoke.
The tears that wrestle in your eyes
Won’t fall and wake the seed
It’s time I put you to the wise
I do no longer bleed.
I’d like to see a smile awake
And live upon your face
Because you’ve made a grave mistake
I do not fill this space.
I love the flowers that you bring
The kind words that you speak
I hear the hymns you sometimes sing
When you turn up each week.
But do not come in search of me
For me you’ll never find
I am not what I used to be
Since I left this world behind.
I will be with you every day
A beacon in the night
For whilst you think I’ve gone away
You’re always in my sight.
So, do not let the tears drop
Or sorrows fill your heart
Although life ends it does not stop
We’re never far apart.

I do not lie in solitude
My bed is warm and dry
No more the saddened attitude
Just look up to the sky.

Daily I listen to wonder and woe,
Nightly I hearken to knave or to ace,
Telling me stories of lava and snow,
Delicate fables of ribbon and lace,
Tales of the quarry, the ****, the chase,
Longer than heaven and duller than hell--
Never you blame me, who cry my case:
"Poets alone should kiss and tell!"

Dumbly I hear what I never should know,
Gently I counsel of pride and of grace;
Into minutiae gayly they go,
Telling the name and the time and the place.
Cede them your silence and grant them space--
Who tenders an inch shall be ***** of an ell!
Sympathy's ever the boaster's brace;
Poets alone should kiss and tell.

Why am I tithed what I never did owe?
Choked with vicarious saffron and mace?
Weary my lids, and my fingers are slow--
Gentlemen, **** you, you've halted my pace.
Only the lads of the cursed race,
Only the knights of the desolate spell,
May point me the lines the blood-drops trace--
Poets alone should kiss and tell.



                   L'ENVOI

Prince or commoner, tenor or bass,
Painter or plumber or never-do-well,
Do me a favor and shut your face
Poets alone should kiss and tell.