Angels Glimpse

this passion shared from love’s sharp sting
crooks too the necks of angels on the wing
who from their dark exalted heights
do strain to glimpse of our delights
though we to them are briefest flames
locked as we are in mortal frames
the heaven’s host envies the fires
burning bright from our desires.

Measure

measure my pleasures
in small delights
a morning wakened
from breathless nights
whisper’s gentle
from the blue
a glance, a smile
this gift of you
measure delights
that fire my heart
in the precious time
imparted
simply by
your presence near
such pleasures doth
my soul hold dear.

Older Poems #4 : Maiden of the Elm Tree

fair maiden of the elm tree
love borne upon the bough
each leaf that falls
requited tears
I must return somehow
a thousand fold
in joyous weepings
a river forms thy name
and within its eddies
I shall drown
not to emerge again.

© 2017

Space

I look not on the stars in wonder
but the space they’ve torn asunder
for there is peace where no star sings
in the darkness everlasting,
Let them shine and pulse and burn
have them glow in every turn
yet in the black infinity
is where my dreams are meant to be.

Such Are Pearls

such are the pearls
in precious measures
we dare not discard
such bauble treasures
yet what is a pearl
save time and sand
which pales in worth
to your fair hand.

More Than Poetry

between Byron and Shelley’s words
in an antique Treasury
a sacred verse unto itself
blessing this anthology
is pressed a blade of heather flower
such is nature’s mystery
that as I part these precious leaves
it reveals more than poetry.

A Day

I should gift the gods
more than a thousand lifetimes
for one day with you

The Silver Mill

we walked along the banks
of the green river’s flow
on the cusp of dusk’s
lazy dappled glow
highlighting her face
in the shadows of pines
as the summertime submitted
to autumn’s first temptation
and in its arms reclined.

A Final Spring

the final spring is come my friend
and with its breath a winter’s end
more so than my eye’s last light
which will be cast no more on night
nor to a cold December’s morn
but instead awake to shimmered dawns
that finds within its golden haze
new memories lost to future days.

Lines

written on a lost summer’s day

through avenues of lindens green
verdant sunlit temple scenes
scattered shadows, dappled light
twixt bright midday and black midnite
we two travellers northward bound
alone up country where we found
the way we sought away from death
and melodies that in faint breaths
we sang together chasing notes
that flew above in feathered throats
ballads pure which knew no woe
and signalled on where we should go
that our quest for summer’s rest
a million dawns, ever west.