As Dreamers are Wont to Say

She of the comely face

of shapely limb

of regal bearing

She of the fairest smile

of graceful steps

and dulcet singing

She of the faultless mind

of gentle heart

and spirit springing

She of the healing touch

of honeyed lips

and love enduring

She is beauty

    and who am I?

Envy of My Eyes

The envy of my eyes
a light and sweetened kiss
the short contented sighs
and mellow private bliss

The smile bereft of shadows
The sparkling fleeting glance
When sharing bitter sorrows
To touch at every chance

To lie with thoughts of longing
To dream of hopes fulfilled
and wake at morning's calling
The truth of dreams revealed

To speak of words unspoken
and learn of secrets kept
To trust with faith unbroken
Til nary doubts are left

This envy of my eyes
A maddening delight
To none but hope relies
Til comes eternal night

Lost Poem

The poem is lost
it is gone forever

lost to the veil of time
lost to the vagaries of memory
lost to the inexorable past

its words will be no more
its essence dissipated
its once intense feeling forgotten

it has burned its fierce light but once
its soul as bright as the darkness that followed it
its after image a bitter testament to its passing

no more shall it be spoken
no ears shall hear its verse
no eyes shall peruse its letters

gone is the poem
gone are its whispers
gone is the inspiration that conceived it


The poem is lost
and it shall never be written again

Dawn of Hearts

Dim embers of a drowsy sun
seeps at the pigments of night
when all the world's asleep
I see and hear and think

For ill conceived my thinking be
in daylights beams of logic
are banished by that mythic time
when night and days at war

What majesty is day reborn!
the death of night anew!
when all shadows are cast aside
my heart must sleep once more

The dawn of hearts forever comes
but i am not always there
so precious thus this time i have
with my jaded heart on fire

To see and hear and think and feel
to live and know no fear

Artificial

There it was on first sight
The usual tinge, the expected
feeling suffusing delight
Then why now so dejected?

Have I lost my pen?
My words, my heart perhaps?
Missing the possibility just when-
they slowly begin to unwrap

Like a candle in the turbulent-
wind, seeking refuge in its own
dying light. Finding mere diffident
illusions where it once shone

Where now is that promise?
That shy faithful gleam
amidst the looming crevice
of a disenchanted dream?

Fallen into the chasms
of sleepy memory. Lost
like the nameless phantasms
of a silent creeping frost


And yet I keep treading
Every stroke of my pen nitid
with tentative courage, murmuring
each word with resolute bid


For Though this poem be artificial
my thoughts of You are not

Rhyme in My Ears

A pleasing sound
though sad maybe
This rhyming bound
in melody

That sways and dance
with somber grace
To do a glance
of heaven chase

And in her weave
a humble gleam
to semblance give
the lofty theme

Of Hope and love
of death and strife
the laugh and sob
of human life

Laid in the notes
the player plays
whose heart devotes
and hand obeys

That which sublime
of feelings stirs
this pleasing rhymes
within my ears