Detail from…

in an orange grove
the daughters of the dusk dance
to heartbeats of men
whose fates they will not decide
yet still guide to damnation

I dream’d in 16th century poesie

if she be inviolate,
it matters not to me
I would only remonstrate
should she fail to be
within this world to guilt the sun
and shame the very sky
for she is the fairest one
who all my doubts defy
so I pray she’s mine to hold
in more than dream’s embrace
for even tales of Helen told
do not justice to her face.

Dream Maiden

how dreams the maiden
of whom my dreams writ’ fair
could it be
in her sweet reveries
’tis me, that she finds there?

The Nightbird

into the darkest night it seemed
I dreamt a bird of purest verse
and that she was all but a dream
is why she was my sorest curse
for true this bird of reverie
would songs to me in sleep relay
but come the morn’ her poetry
would be lost forever to the day,
thus to the muses do I pray
that this nightbird’s song will stay
with me when my senses rise
and not to dawning sun demise.

I do love dreams court

fair lady of intrepid charms
be bold with me in thoughts
that I partake of in your arms
when I do love’s dreams court

my forehead resting on your breast
engaging reveries
that your heartbeat does bequest
upon desires from me.

sweet lady hold me ’til the dawn
when sunlight warms the dew
that my passions newly born
will find their troth in you.

Unwritten Verse

if I could write you
in pretty verse
I would stay my pen,
for florid poesie
and sculpted song
would share with other men
those dreams of thee
writ’ just for me
thus other’s may not ken

A Plurality of Heart

each single heartbeat marks its time
yet seeks another with which to rhyme
those breath’s rhythmic entropy
into the last eternity
when that single heartbeat fades

Shadow

‘twould even the touch of your shadow
excite my waking skin
for it holds not just the dark
desires live too within
and as your umbral silhouette
glides larger ever near
I wait anticipating
for all light to disappear

Depart fair moon

what promise holds the moon for me
save to remind me it is night
and in such darkness I do not see
her face as in the dawning light
so depart fair moon and scatter stars
let the day arise to be
to blow away these dusted hours
that the morning glows on she.

The Darker Songs

in winter Saturn’s songs are bleak
ballads of death’s dominion
yet this darkness to me speaks
more than spring’s adoration
of lightly formed and simple rhymes
which though sweet and deft
sing but to me ’bout long lost times
of which poesie is now bereft