A very special poem for my love
Someday, my love,
You will stumble-come to this site,
To see the work product of restless nights,
Many you will know, cherish, but not this one,
For not every writ to you be fully disclosed.
I know I promised to let you, me-to-predecease,
Tho silly promised, this cannot be guaranteed.
So if I hasten from this world before you,
Apologize for The Compact^ broken,
But put in place your pushed, upswept hair,
Powder your face, puff up thy heart,
Get ready to banish~dance the ill-at-ease,
Put your hands in my favorite place,^^
As I once did,
for in yours dreams,
as I.am now,
I will surely be again
Nightly, I'll visit, as my haunt,
Nightly, I'll visit, as was my wont.
For this humble writ will outlast our love,
and our physicalties both,
Accuse me not of promises broken,
Well I know, well I ken
Why you wanted to be the first not to be the last,
But this, beyond even my super powers.
But if my aura be a comfort insufficient,
Let this surprise poetic gift awaiting your arrival,
Give you rest, from crying surcease!
For when the who, the why of me interrogatory posed,
Describe me in a brevity I ne'er possessed, say:
*He was just a poet, and I,
Just, his lover, number one fan.*
This truth eternal, never to change.
**Call me.
No, better yet,
Dream me.**
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 3:39 PM UTC
A very special poem for my love
Someday, my love,
You will stumble-come to this site,
To see the work product of restless nights,
Many you will know, cherish, but not this one,
For not every writ to you be fully disclosed.
I know I promised to let you, me-to-predecease,
Tho silly promised, this cannot be guaranteed.
So if I hasten from this world before you,
Apologize for The Compact^ broken,
But put in place your pushed, upswept hair,
Powder your face, puff up thy heart,
Get ready to banish~dance the ill-at-ease,
Put your hands in my favorite place,^^
As I once did,
for in yours dreams,
as I.am now,
I will surely be again
Nightly, I'll visit, as my haunt,
Nightly, I'll visit, as was my wont.
For this humble writ will outlast our love,
and our physicalties both,
Accuse me not of promises broken,
Well I know, well I ken
Why you wanted to be the first not to be the last,
But this, beyond even my super powers.
But if my aura be a comfort insufficient,
Let this surprise poetic gift awaiting your arrival,
Give you rest, from crying surcease!
For when the who, the why of me interrogatory posed,
Describe me in a brevity I ne'er possessed, say:
*He was just a poet, and I,
Just, his lover, number one fan.*
This truth eternal, never to change.
**Call me.
No, better yet,
Dream me.**
^ see My Compact
^^ see The Finger of God
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