A SMOLDERING WICK
A smoldering wick about to die,
An ember soon to be extinguished,
A final tear followed by a sigh.
Broken the heavy heart with anguish.
Changed from summer’s heat to winter’s chill,
Fevered love that once had burned so bright.
What once seemed so good is now but ill.
What once seemed so much is now but slight.
The whys and hows remain unanswered;
Nothing but sorrow and bitter strife.
May these last words remain uncensored.
May love flame again back into life.
A TRIVIAL GAME
It was for you but a trivial game,
Some slight amusement to pass the idle hour,
The wild heart to capture and then tame,
To have dominion and absolute power.
A bored cat merely toying with its prey,
With its wide-eyed stare of glistening fear.
Cruel and taunting in its tormenting play,
No mercy granted to a suffering Lear.
But as for me, caught in your sharpened claws,
It was not a simple game, but life and death.
Discarded, darkness o’er these eyes now draws
As I profess my love with my dying breath.
LIKE A PRICELESS DIAMOND
Like a priceless diamond is my one true love,
But I have naught a penny to offer for her thoughts,
For my station is low: hers from high above,
But I have only words to woo; lays that I have wrought.
Though poor indeed, I possess with words vast wealth
Making me richer than any bejeweled, gold-crowned king.
Treasures untouched by moth, rust or thieving stealth,
These priceless words of love and honor I humbly bring
In lieu of costly trinkets to catch her eye.
I, who have not a single farthing to my good name.
My moth-eaten cloak by moonlight’s glow disguise.
But being poor in love, would be my greatest shame.
WHAT LOOK IS THIS I SEE UPON MY LOVE’S?
What look is this I see upon my love’s?
What change is this in her sweet demeanor?
Before, her gaze was like a cooing dove’s
Bestowed upon faithful I who serve her.
What is this steely glint now in her eyes?
A touch of winter chill one frosty morn
That without mercy wilts the fleur de lyes.
Before, her fleeting glance was warm and soft –
My blissful days now sullen and forlorn.
Her gracious love, once mine, is held aloft.
So unexpected was this sudden change.
When will this blackest night turn back to day?
If only I her heart could re-arrange,
For without her love, I have lost my way.
From dark chaos and deep turmoil,
Word by word spoken into being,
Fertile seeds planted in rich soil,
Bursting into sun-lit meaning.
Carved out from the dark, hidden depths,
Incarnate words – living flesh,
Each one imbued with living breath,
Sweet sounds the ear gently caress.
Dawn’s first beams breaking o’er the night
Reveal what in the dark had formed.
Harmonious in sound and sight,
All creation – the perfect poem.
Posted in Poetry
ORPHEUS & EURYDICE
Gifted by the nine Muses’ fire,
Bestowed with a seven-string lyre
To sing all day with words that charm,
The wild beasts could do no harm.
One day, appeared sweet Eurydice,
Became his world a paradise.
Hymen’s smoking torch attended,
Near the sea, by vows were wedded.
Sweet days of joy and nights of bliss,
Song-filled hours sweetened with a kiss.
Appeared a lusting bee-keeper
Who tried to have his way with her.
In fear, into the forest fled,
On a serpent, by chance did tread.
On the wind her cries were carried –
Keen Orpheus did not tarry.
Too quick the poison reached her heart
To Death’s dark realm did soon depart.
Orpheus sang, but could not charm
The lifeless body in in his arms.
Helpless, away her soul was borne.
In twain, his sorrowed heart was torn.
In preparing to write a series of poems about Orpheus and Eurydice, I have just finished reading Orpheus: The Song of Life by Ann Wroe – a lyrically written exploration of Orpheus built on the premise that he was a real person.
THE NEW ROMANTICS (Not Taylor Swift’s)
March to the drummer of a romantic beat,
Follow in the footsteps of Byron, Shelley and Keats.
In the fairer sex, take great delight,
Stay up late writing poetry by candlelight.
Live like lords without a penny to our names,
Scorning all ambition, fortune and fame.
Take for our themes love, beauty and death,
Proclaim them all until our dying breath.
Let the choicest words fall from our lips
As from the comb, velvet honey drips.
With a heart full of fiery passion,
Our love will never go out of fashion.
In this crude world, we’ll be in denial,
Living our lives in true poetic style.
Forever, we’ll always keep on dancing,
Forever, we’ll always keep on romancing.
Shun this insipid, shallow world so frantic,
Come and join us, the new romantics.
(PoeticMedittions © 2016)