Jeff Siegel

Bury me with stones on my grave
Allow me the comfort of eternal sleep
Keep my tomb even, unlike that of a cave
For a shallow grave makes the devil weep.
...

I love you when you are near.
As seaman love the morning clear.

I love you still when your far away.
...

When the sun escapes the heavens grasp,
And the day that flew now seems to lapse,
When clouds that billowed now stretch and fray,
It is then my world turns Saturnine Gray.
...

Daughter of love, given to me
Wrapped in a bundle
Of warmth and pink clothes.
Cautious am I
...

I live in a place called you
Seen by many, and known to few.
It's path is paved, yet hard to get to
Where feelings are veiled and love is pursued.
...

What have you brought me?
What language will you speak?
What century do you come from?
My anima of blue mistique.
...

Her music is soft, sometimes aloof
Like rain upon an old tin roof.
With honey brown skin, soft and so sheen,
And eyes that flash like cut citrine.
...

She comes to me like a sweet gentle wind
Whispered on a field of clover.

With a longing heart,
...

The crow stands plump
With his spindly legs
And feathered rump.
...

I held your memory in my hands,
Two longing nights ago.
Soft and kind, my love was blind
Two darkened nights ago.
...

If your hand should ever leave my side,
Should our fingers become wayward ships,
Such grievous sorrow my flesh would cry,
To feel the loss of your fingertips.
...

There are questions in life
That are best left to riddle,
The man in the moon,
A capricious tune,
...

Pretty you are not,
In the times I think of you.
When one was a number I only viewed,
Then you came and showed me two.
...

In the soltice of my mind
The sun sets closer on longing and grief.
A fortnight of Sundays,
And still I find,
...

If I could be loved, and only by you,
Gone would be the gallows of loneliness,
And the footsteps of despair,
I would bid them adieu.
...

The clouds grow thick
And start to mass
As your perfume stains my pillow.
While outside the winds blow foul
...

Oh how she sings,
In beautiful refrain,
When caustic clouds have gathered,
And the day begins to feign.
...

I needed a smile,
And none to be had,

Faces as sunless
...

The ghost in my pen
Has again let you in
Painting my longing on paper.
...

Over the tops of trees it can bring
A cooling relief from a hot summer's sting.

Or a vessel that sails like the falcon and crow
...