I drifted off throughout that night,
My breath held deep in thrall to art
With words I felt but didn't write -
They fled my pen; I couldn't start.
...
The more ways I find to express my love,
The more I love you, and the better for love,
And more: What more than seek such ways to it;
Expressing love (and therefore to do it) .
...
I dared to know a forbidden mind,
Innocence imprisoned in darkness,
One soul trapped beneath fear, in irons,
A kindred spirit bent beyond reason,
...
There once was a lazy poor poet,
But indignant she didn't quiet know it.
Just one bad review,
And her blood turned all blue,
...
I've lost the joy that used to meet your smile,
And found without its light my life now feels
That I have squandered love; It takes a while
Before faith's misconception hurts as real.
...
Of all words ever said before,
Of all the knowledge known,
Of all the theories held before,
And all that I've been shown;
...
What is this place called life? That lonely thing
Which cruelly wipes out dreams that beings bring?
How then to persevere in living when
These all are doomed: the lives of beasts and men?
...
If I for failure owe some higher price
Than kind, to quell love's thirst and passion's cost,
I say, I'd pay it gladly over twice,
For this, my first love's kiss, that I've since lost.
...
Leave me where the snows will fall;
I'll lay myself a bed beneath
the stars; I'll listen to the wind
and sing my sorrows to the seas.
...
Oh! Shut my brain; Don't make me feel
my pain, your pain, you've made it real.
You've tied down hope; I'm half as tall,
...
No ropes are these, my hands, to bind the wind,
To part unyielding currents from herself,
Or fix my earthbound breath and so defend:
As fallen leaves on wind, I've lost myself.
...
(I)
I've lost the joy that used to meet your smile,
And found without its light my life now feels
...
An artist paints his life from mark to end,
from mix to finish, like the pigment oils
that while on painter's pallet blend,
on canvas cling to boast the master's toils.
...
Democracy has nothing left to do,
From high in soaring towers of plate glass,
Concealed by rebar steel and concrete block,
Secured aloft in fortresses of finance;
...
Her beauty is as lines laid on my soul
As found revealed beyond the reach of time;
So subtle, fate's perfection draws me whole
As powerless I cling to her design.
...
Oft' I wait across the way,
Staid nerves defy my flustered heart
With words I would but will not say,
So steel my tongue before I start.
...
She is the moonlight pallor,
Dark water's cold caress
Echoes in the shadow of midnight's kiss.
On a single mote of her hair,
...
You've seen these skies under a different star;
its rays caress the winds but not the same
as those that strike on me; their journey's far
from yours; their currents found a different stream.
...
Leaves fly the wind across my way
Like dreams brought dry on sorrowed dew;
As night strikes vibrance from the day,
These souls the trail led hard astray;
...
I would have been a better friend
If time had worn me not alone.
Though friendships' bonds frayed past their end,
I could have been a better friend.
...
Ode To Words I Didn'T Write
I drifted off throughout that night,
My breath held deep in thrall to art
With words I felt but didn't write -
They fled my pen; I couldn't start.
Although I knew what words devised,
In writing what would never be,
As ink did dry, the words revised,
My words! They had forsaken me!
In muted silence did I oath,
(For grammar too eluded me) ,
And wrote some sentence without mouth,
Expressing drivel where dreams should be.
In writing down did words appear,
And basest letters did transcribe -
My soul said more than air could hear;
My words, alas, could dirt describe.
This is absolutely breath-takingly beautiful...you do have a way with words! Theodora Onken
I enjoyed the rhyme scheme of this poem. As said before....very melodic. Sincerely Sally Nesmith
No doubt about it: poetry for you is a craft, and it shows... Just putting in writing what you already know- that I enjoy reading your work. Amicalement votre, Ronberge..