#oldtimey
How Sweet the Hour when Twylight’s Purple Shade
Doth wrap the Grove where erst our Vows were made;
When ev’ry Flow’r bows down its Dewy Head,
And Silence walks where’er the Mortals tread.
Tis then, Clarissa, that thy Form appears,
To chase the Gloom of all my waking Fears;
No Gemm from India’s Mine can e’er compare
To One soft Ringlet of thy Golden Hair.
The World may Boast of Empire and of Gold,
Of Conquests won by Warriors, Fierce and Bold;
But I, more Blest, find Scepters in thy Hand,
And bow to Love’s most Soveraign Command.
Tho’ Tempests rise and Angry Billows roar,
To cast my Vessel on a Desart Shore,
Thy Constancy shall be my Magnet True,
For All my Hopes are Center’d, Dearest, in you.
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Mar 22
Mar 22, 2026 at 9:21 PM UTC
a nesteling
of rustling
a tussle
with a tassel
roundabout views
encircling a fanfare
framed frowns
displaying cosmic disruption
chaos never in theory
giving to be adjacent
along highways
driven into teamsters
reguiling into a spheric
comfort internal
Jan 16
Jan 16, 2026 at 12:17 AM UTC
I posed, if noble, on bended knee
Unto my half I did prithee
Forsake all comfort
O're Earth o're sea
Were days long gone my half and me
I lay entwined o're burning hearth
For fire fueled by dampened mirth
All that is
What once was earth
My half and me at rivers firth
I fell from daze to far below
And forget not to what I know
Of shrinking time
As darkness grows
Before my half, before I go
I sit divided on crooked path
A frown hath stolen my lazy laugh
To dream of days come cross our paths
Myself and my better half.
Feb 25, 2019
Feb 25, 2019 at 12:27 PM UTC