Franc Rodriguez Poems

In my heart beats the heartbeat of a child,
from whence birth is its origins.
And from the earth that I soon tread upon,
are the footsteps indeed of a wandering soul.
...

Through the sundry willows, and the vast fields of the earth,
lies the haunting image of many of our beloved fallen men.
Dandies in apparel but yet young boys in body for in their spirit,
rested the dutiful call to defend a wondrous nation again.
...

Behold a season's change, as bundles of twiglets are reaped,
and branches of birches are trimmed beyond a nearby den.
Lost in the gale, are the tidings of a storm approaching,
beyond the plentiful verdure of the quiescent glen.
...

Trumpets sound, as cherubs play in concurrence melodies that chime.
In such mystic consonance, they bear the guise of true magnificence.
Halos to glint, and wings to open the gates of heaven in due time.
They lead the flock of souls forthright, in such celestial presence.
...

Perhaps to many my words of poetry seem much too ambiguous.
Although I must attest, that I do not attempt to be disingenuous.
Therefore my gist is never paltry but rather much propitious.
The pith of my poems can be found, in the toils of stanzas ingenious.
...

Amidst the darkness of the night, I descried at a most wondrous sight.
It was a continuous glimmering glow and shinning effervescent light.
Then I rose to my feet, and stared for a while at this blurry image.
I glanced, at the celestial figure that bestowed upon me such solace.
...

As I glance throughout my window, I can see the change of seasons.
The verdure of the summer leaves, now tawny with the autumn fall.
And with the end of summer, I ponder then the change and its reasons.
As the summer breeze, now becomes a brunt of gale that is to befall.
...

I sense your presence, through the draught that entered in the night.
The rain passed onto the gleam of the morning sun of the window sill.
The chirm of birds as they roosted, on a perch glistened by the light.
So perth they chimed, and they would kittle one, into a soothing lull.
...

I was too blind to see the tart skene that whetted my heart.
I was a fool to believe that your words of love bore meaning.
There left doleful and glum, as you tore my heart apart.
Henceforth, I was condemned to accept this dreadful feeling.
...

My heart cringed before, for my tears abounded my soul.
My solitude was eternal, and despair was me day and night.
I was once a lonesome child so dishevelled and foul.
I was forlorn and afterwards depraved of sight.
...