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Lawrence Hall Sep 2019
Is there a man of such steely self-control
Of such virtue, character, fortitude
Strength and pride in his manly role
Confidence and heart and stern attitude

Valor, endurance, resolution, will
Courage, patience, defiance, intellect
Manliness, ruggedness, rock-like, chill
Decision, quality, all cool and collect

That he doesn’t have to go and upchuck
Whenever he hears that “Desiderata” muck?
Your ‘umble scrivener’s site is: Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com

It’s not at all reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.

Lawrence Hall’s vanity publications are available on amazon.com as Kindle and on bits of dead tree:  THE ROAD TO MAGDALENA, PALEO-HIPPIES AT WORK AND PLAY, LADY WITH A DEAD TURTLE, DON’T FORGET YOUR SHOES AND GRAPES, COFFEE AND A DEAD ALLIGATOR TO GO, and DISPATCHES FROM THE COLONIAL OFFICE.
A legion of children enveloped us that day, /
Their presence transparent beneath rays of sun baptismal. /
As the chirp of laughter infiltrated the air, /
There enclaved in their omnipresent mist, /
Passion blossomed in this juvenescent heart. /

Gleaming these eyes sauntered your luminescent skin, /
Pining for that rapture that lay betwixt your arms. /
Although roving within for clarity in words, /
This burgeoning vessel trembled in loss, /
For fugitive they stood in my subconscious. /

Yearning for more than the caress of your voice, /
Its musicality enough to serenade for all time, /
And the flawless rhythm of this heartbeat /
Whispered intently of something divine /
For this keepsake of yours -is immortal.- /

Even now nostalgia cleaves as an arrow, /
-Piercing to the soul- /
And it screams to be nurtured. /
Blooming in reminiscence I conjure dreams immemorial, /
Returning to that hallowed sanctuary. /

Your countenance is a distant glint, now untraceable; /
Marred by elapsed time, that insidious decay. /
My agony has become a vast sea, /
Besieged by the maelstrom of lament /
For my undying piety is all that remains./

A language too grand to be deciphered /
By such an infantile mind, /
Yet now I pensively ponder, "Will you ever return?" /
I would relinquish my soul to gaze once more /
Upon your grace my Materialista. /

Life has become a heavy haze, /
Occupied by a discordant melisma of pain. /
And this memento -without you- is my torture stake, /
For the moment we held hands has bound me forevermore; /
And I stand here everlastingly, yearning for your arms. /
This is an old piece that I composed for critique in my college level Creative Writing course. This is a manifestation of my previous style of amalgamating or combining deep sentimentality, nostalgia, and passion-infused as well as spontaneous expressions to convey my thoughts and emotions. The assignment was to write about a childhood memory. I don't want to spoil it for you, the one hint I will provide is that is pertains to love during my years of juvenility. I hope you enjoy! God bless!
Avoid loud and agressive persons
They're vixations to the spirit.

— The End —