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Is the pen mightier than the sword?
Know not do I but I grasp it tight.
And, pray for humble words
That will split the night.
Trumpets blaring, voices declaring
Promises from lips leapt
At one time two hearts skipped,
But six winters in darkness wept.
At one time two hearts skipped,
but into silence fell.
And it was hardly noticed
in the harbor of labors well.
In tender mercies blessed,
Yet, sleepless in nights unrest.
In creature comforts surrounded,
Yet, empty hearted and confounded.
A fertile and giving land
Neglected by the tiller’s hand.
A fire the tender did not stoke
Burned down and turned to smoke.
A conspiracy not I was seeking
Yet you stirred my heart now no longer sleeping
Star crossed paths of innocence and happen chance
You warmed a hardened heart with but your glance.
Of two and then by three
Seven is the count I make of we.
A Harvest of hallowed ground
by broken spade
Promises implied, and
Ignorance across the threshold departed
Yet, I cannot stop what has started.
In denial’s company I may now be…
But I pursued my love trepidly.
Doors down a passage I went,
No windows clear and no confessions sent.
I think I shall sit and rest a spell
And await fate’s report
A story yet to tell.
It is I outside your door,
I knocked twice, but never more.
Dies cast, decisions not yet made
But, upon your altar my heart is laid
Forgive me, for I have poured out my soul
And, when it would not stop,
As I could not stop it.
thus I bled it whole.
and, indeed you are
In every respect
A Super Star
You are my morning, noon and night
A guiding star no other quite so bright.
My North, South, East and West
You coax from me my very best.
Yes, I’ve heard the North wind mock me in jest
But I also feel a fire burning brightly ablaze
From deep within my chest.
Grant us our hungers worst
You drink of me as I of you…
Living waters, blessed not cursed.
Souls, not consumed, but ethereally nursed.
Too far gone,
Not far enough gotten
vows under burdens harness,
with years of neglect and inches of tarnish.
I love you…
With all that I am, and all that I see.
All that I am not, and
All that I hope is yet to be.
My work here, perhaps done,
but most hopefully only just begun
Thoughts interrupted still incomplete
My words are broken by a stealing sleep
When all is done and said
While lying on your winter’s bed
Think not of summers lost
Or, a lovers cost
but the path that lay ahead.
In what arrogance, dare I advise thee?
But consider my words, and, in so doing, do so wisely
Be cautious in promises broke
Lest they become the bearers yoke.
In lessons unlearned and deeds forgot
We are judged by what we did but more so by what we did not.
In rigid posture we are broken not bent,
Let me say not, “this is how my innocence was spent”.
It is I who stands upon the watchtower,
It is I who now surveys seasons past
And it is in my heart and upon my dying lips
You will hear your name whispered last.
Somewhat strange I must admit,
But somehow it occurred to me
The universe was split
And, we became but an echo in eternity
If in this life my desires I should not achieve
Then in Heaven, with parched lips,
is where I shall be awaiting thee…
Hugging, tightly, the reflection of your freedom’s key. ©