Reyvrex Questor Reyes Poems

How will I paint your smile, so mystical,
I'm no Rembrandt or Michelangelo,
Your voice, soothing and musical,
I grope for notes, to strike the keys aglow;
...

Our glances linger, to consume our day,
To frolic till the setting of the sun,
When squandering our lifetimes in this way,
How would we ever know how life is spun?
...

If I may say, that crimson rose you wear,
Looks red, but tainted, not as red so pure,
Its tints of violet, a purplish smear,
Bespeaks not your sweet ways, true and demure,
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By this time
She will be awake
As her clock would always chime
Missing breakfast that I make
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How sad, my treasure store amounts to nil,
I could be leaving bare, like when I came,
I've searched for joys, Epicurean, till,
My life results in dearth of wealth and fame;
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The dawn, the dawn, on other distant shores,
Methinks, is what drove her to go on sprees,
If night is what she thinks that always stores,
Her fate in place called 'here' if naught she flees;
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There she sits waiting, with wine glass in hand,
Quite so demure, but for the place and time,
So, I whisked her out of this drunken band,
'Take me home, ' she said, as our watches chime.
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Talk of ill intent, or sheer coincidence
A stalker I've got, as events would show
She is fair, I might shelve my evidence
But as days go by, apprehensions grow
...

One cool afternoon, as some light winds blow
'Twas after the rains, so the leaves were clean
Grey clouds hid the sun which now seem to glow
Came this girl and dog walking by so slow
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My love, wake up, the drums are coming near,
Our army waits, their catapults are drawn,
The gate is sealed, the moat's bridge hoisted clear,
Our seers have warned about this blood-drenched dawn:
...