Foot to foot, boot to boot
Blade to blade, button to button
Cheeks and chops and chins like mutton
where bees are found, with honey for the bees
where sounds are music and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything
making it a companionable form
whose puny flaps and freaks the idling spirit
By its own moods interprets, everywhere
Echo or mirror seeking of itself
and makes a toy of thoughts
Summer and winter for ought I can say
so unrecorded did it slip away
He always did come and go
As traceless as a throw of bygone snow.
Work it in gold and silver grapes
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys.
Drawn to a deep fantasy staring at space
As fleecy cloudy trial back across the skies
Showing the sweet young moon in azure space
The lifting veil revealed my glowing face
A sudden wonder to his eager eyes
In that familiar beauty lurked surprise.
For now i stood in the maiden's place
with conscious dignity and a woman's grace,
Love's large pride grown trebly fair and wise.
It was really me walking down the aisle for him
in a pretty mess gesticulation
when it all came to a reality of so many
Pieces of a broken heart.
Memories were entwining,both bad and good
To a scale of zero to ten,I would pick a nine
for my bad, in spite of its strength of control.
History carried many cunning passages, on haunting corridors and issues, deceives with whimpering ambitions,guiding me by vanities.
In memory only with reconsidered passion
It hurt with a haunting refrain.
Feeling yesterday, lovely thoughts was all
I could see.
For some rare days, I thought you belonged
to me.
It hurt badly to see, for another was your love
meant to be
It could not be we, so back to home I cried
He looked and as he looked, the sight
sent from his soul through breast and brain
such intense joy , it hurt like pain
His heart seemed bursting with delight.
Our eyes then met for the first time, again.
Whose gentle breathing, heard in this
deep calm,
Fill up the interspersed vacancies
and momentary pauses and gazes of
the thought! It was indescribable.
It felt like so many great pieces in each and every pretty mess in particular.
Just like a Burbank with a Baedeker.
Reflected from the vastly infinite,
However dulled by earth, each humans heart,
holds somewhere gems of beauty,light
and forgiveness too, above all, Love,
which ,sincerely seeking, thou shalt find.
Me the love, him the beat
while the one eludes, must the other pursue
No fate could rob of our own
No circumstances would have made it less
what time removes was but a loan
for what was ours we still posses.
Regardless of it all, all godly sorrow pays.
There is no better thing than righteous pain
The sleepless nights, the awful thorns
crowned days
Bring sure reward to tortured soul and brain
Unmeaning joys enervate in the end,
But sorrow yields a glorious dividend in the long run.
Pretty mess.
P