Meet Me At The Lighthouse Poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr

Meet me at the lighthouse,
When the clock tells 10: 19 of the post-median,
So I could tell you of my amaranthine passion,
Because my light perpetuates, casting over the horizon

So I could run my fingers through your hair,
Thriving in the world created by your scent,
This night is fading, the effervescent
Time tarnishes, yet my longing will not

The resistance of fate and reality,
Have no claim over my soul,
Shall it embellish the most harsh of conclusions,
Meet me at the lighthouse, my heart emblazoned

With such desire for your eyes,
That glimmer almost incessantly
The constellated caricature over your head,
Tongue-tied, with words unsaid.

Shall I clench my fist until your return,
So there'd be no one else to take my hand,
By the darkest hours of the lighthouse,
I shall never leave its shabby corners until your presence

Graces the period of my yearning,
For a soul that kindles that dying glow in me
And now that the sunshine in your hair
Has arrived with royalty and eloquence,

Darling, the clock spells 10: 15 of the post-median,
I can hear your footsteps bellowing through the spiral staircases,
I shall adorn the steeple with gyrating roses,
Saintly in appearance, I have dressed myself grandly

I feel no vicissitude, you are here,
My mind alters that of which fear cannot,
You came in, with your auburn brown hair in knots,
I wore my heart on my sleeve, proudly like a prince

And as I wince, for we have to part,
The pain is as sharp as the fangs of the serpent-like distress,
With thoughts repressed like turbines in quagmire,
There is still hope, I saw your eyes with the facet of a sapphire,

Or a diamond, for diamonds are forever,
Yet diamonds, never too mundane about niceties,
The entirety of your beauty expands through continents,
Keeping my soul pacing, following each of your vestige

And now that you are gone, though not eternally,
I shall wait for you again in the lighthouse, with my buoyant body
Lying there, motionless, until you rebuke me with such reality,
That in the light house, still, everything is temporary.

In the lighthouse, staggering with such light on my hand
Bedazzled with halcyon eyes, astounded by her simian jaw
The intricacy and sophistication of her soul and body,
Discloses that I am a dew in the grassy plains of her beauty.

Such soul, with an ocean of kindness overflows
I get lost every time I wander too close,
To her gossamer lips and supple face
Where have you gone, you have all of my days!

In the lighthouse, shall I wait forever,
Until the skies speak so much of changing seasons,
Still, unchanged, I remain here for a reason,
That my lady shall come over, to bring upon the solace.