Providential Piece Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Song of my soul, soul of song,
long to belong to true beau,
strong where most, weak, string along,
short to wrong conquer and, oh!

Hope for new scope, scope for hope,
never a bye line to toe,
rope with no strings, wings which cope
with winds of change strange, far range, so
dawn of my dawn she became,
fame of shared flame through time's flow,
drawn thorn as newborn glows game's aim,
name of my name who'll rhymes sow.

Bride to abide through the years,
tears clears, cheers as fearful fears go,
far and wide side by side soon appears
for hope nears when heart steers Cupid's bow.

Light of my light shines fair muse
whose views offer cues to bestow
bright blessings no wight could confuse,
clues choose to ignore or loose, glow
fires faith which aspires through tuned lyre
to translate runes ballooning to show
desires which inspire more desire,
enthuse, offer boon zephyr blow.

Waft of my weave I believe
receiving achieves to and fro
unsparing free sharing, two cleave
to each other, discover plateau
untouched and unsmutched for none grieve,
minds leave much behind more to know,
much more as two cores interleave
than first found as obbligato.

Flight through insight to delight
metamorphosis few undergo,
bright star once afar turning night
into day which all pray apropos.

HEART which HE ARTfully writes,
SHE ALl HEALS to unseal joy's chateau,
rite rightfully cited incites
an urge to merge, surge, long ago
foreseen to be queen, reconcile
surface smile with sacred undertow,
rile, bile, soothing to guileless beguile
while sentiments soft overflow.

Find mind behind features sublime
refusing narrow status quo
refusing to mime p[h]antomime,
all acknowledge respect none forego.

Links my pen inks trace their source,
course, and force, as above and below
in story on[e] glory discourse,
never coarse, no remorse ever know.
Dawn of my dawn she'll remain,
never wane, prove joys vain - sun and snow
come and go, she alone, once again
it is plain, easing pain, wards off woe.

Providential piece could reel out
more praise to the envy of time,
but you, reader, must out and about,
go in peace, we'll release you from rhyme.

(9 August 2007)