Sonnet: Thieves

Through turns and twists, an endless beat, we ran;
I’d spurn the mists, descend to meet with thee.
We’d turn a bend upon a stone, and we
Would earn an end, and on our own, began.

But for a while–and never knowing when–
Once more to smile, then time to go, it was.
Through turns, we twist, an endless beat, and us
Returned, we list, pretend, and meet again.

You’d wrest some rest from lies and flight, and stole
From me some paradise, not quite forlorn.
I took, from you, a measure of that sworn
A garden, too. You stole no treasure, whole;
But gave us shrift, though magical and brief.
Forgiveness gifts me gratitude, my thief!

Sonnet: Lost

May I explain the longing in my heart
That now perfects my quite imperfect life?
A time deceptively devoid of strife,
It doth not oft betray its lack of Art

Nor lack of thee. I crave that sweetest part
Thou play”st with me–exuberantly rife
With all its charms–that sweetest touch, the fife
Who’s delicacy is thy voice… and Heart….

And eyes… what odes could be composed ‘pon thine.
And how do I contain them to a line
Or two of such an insufficient length?
I’ll write they speak of sorrow and of strength.
Conveying all the beauty of the world.
Betraying all the beauty of a girl….


Intro: When I Write About Love

I’d write about love
I could write all day and night
The words would pour out

But I think it would
because of my own true love
be all too easy

I think I could write
Thrice as I have written once
Time would almost stop