I stole a glance at you
Lustfully larcenous
More than one in fact
I was a repeat offender
A serial gazer
In perpetual regard
Loitering with intent to stare
In open mouthed infatuation
And you caught me
Apprehended me in the act
Of elicit observation
Your arresting look
Took custody of me
A petty felon
With prior form
And with merciless intent
You stole my heart
Without hesitation
No mere act of petty larceny
You took it from me
And at once captivated me
Imprisoned me
Behind the bars of love
Once in your possession
It became valueless
Scornfully regarded
You keep it under glass
On display
Where you can watch it beat
Or by capricious whim
Play with it
Like a cat plays with a mouse
While I die by inches
Knowing you have my heart
But not one of your own
So sits a prisoner of love
In sight of death row
Indefinitely incarcerated
Behind the bars of love
No hope of parole
Wednesday, 3 June 2009
THE RUSTIC STILE AT LANES END
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands sentinel still
Marking that special place
Where the fates conspired
Our souls should meet
Though we purposely
Trod opposing paths
We met at that rustic spot
And to help you cross
I took your hand
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safe to my side
And despite the presence
Of each others companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone
And in those moments
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that point on
Would be forever altered
And were content
With that destiny
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place oft revisited
And on such sojourns
We would find renewal
As the energizing memory
Of that special moment
Assailed our senses
Essentially invigorating
Like imbibing the waters
From the fountain of youth
And our hearts would once again
Resound with joyousness
And sweet moments of romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love laid down
Through all our years
By returning to the place
Of loves wondrous inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the favour
The rustic stile
Stands sentinel still
Marking that special place
Where the fates conspired
Our souls should meet
Though we purposely
Trod opposing paths
We met at that rustic spot
And to help you cross
I took your hand
Small and silken soft
Guiding you safe to my side
And despite the presence
Of each others companions
We were to all intents
Quite alone
And in those moments
When hand touched hand
We at once beheld
Our lives from that point on
Would be forever altered
And were content
With that destiny
At lanes end
The rustic stile
Stands like a monument
Marking the place of alteration
A significant place
A spiritual place oft revisited
And on such sojourns
We would find renewal
As the energizing memory
Of that special moment
Assailed our senses
Essentially invigorating
Like imbibing the waters
From the fountain of youth
And our hearts would once again
Resound with joyousness
And sweet moments of romance
Those excited tingles
Of loves first passion
When hearts beat faster
And desire courses
Through every fibre
The thrill of blossoming love
Adding to the strata
Of our love laid down
Through all our years
By returning to the place
Of loves wondrous inception
We keep our love alive
And in equal measure
Love returns the favour
ALL OF MY LIFE
All of my life
I have had no talent
Hidden or on show
No gift or endowment
No skill or mastery
No bent or flair
Ability or forte
Nothing to mark me out
From the common herd
Or stand me out from the crowd
All of my life
I have been ordinary
Mediocre and average
Quite mundane and everyday
No hint of genius
Expert only in my ordinariness
But content in my mediocrity
All of my life
I have been un-ambitious
No goals to be achieved
Not driven by desire
In any shape or form
Some might say shiftless
I would say satisfied
Happy with my lot
All of my life
I lived a half life
Until my outlook changed
When I saw you smile
And heard you speak my name
I was born again
With new purpose
A new vocation
To shed my mediocrity
And cast it aside
Like a well used coat
And dig deep within myself
To find that dying ember of desire
That almost imperceptible spark
So clearly visible to you
And breathe life into it
Until white hot
And then fan the flames of passion
You have ignited in me
All the rest of my life
Endowed with your gift
I will feel extraordinary
And with my new found ambition
My one and only goal
The soul purpose of my being
Is to make you truly happy
As happy as you have made me
And with all my heart and soul
I will dedicate myself
To always loving you
I have had no talent
Hidden or on show
No gift or endowment
No skill or mastery
No bent or flair
Ability or forte
Nothing to mark me out
From the common herd
Or stand me out from the crowd
All of my life
I have been ordinary
Mediocre and average
Quite mundane and everyday
No hint of genius
Expert only in my ordinariness
But content in my mediocrity
All of my life
I have been un-ambitious
No goals to be achieved
Not driven by desire
In any shape or form
Some might say shiftless
I would say satisfied
Happy with my lot
All of my life
I lived a half life
Until my outlook changed
When I saw you smile
And heard you speak my name
I was born again
With new purpose
A new vocation
To shed my mediocrity
And cast it aside
Like a well used coat
And dig deep within myself
To find that dying ember of desire
That almost imperceptible spark
So clearly visible to you
And breathe life into it
Until white hot
And then fan the flames of passion
You have ignited in me
All the rest of my life
Endowed with your gift
I will feel extraordinary
And with my new found ambition
My one and only goal
The soul purpose of my being
Is to make you truly happy
As happy as you have made me
And with all my heart and soul
I will dedicate myself
To always loving you
ON LIFE’S GREAT JOURNEY
On life’s great journey
When sweet love crosses your path
Seize it with great urgency
Capture it and keep it safe
Do not let it loose from your grasp
Lest it slip through your fingers, and be gone
Hold it tightly
Cherish it, nurture it, and watch it grow
Until it wraps itself about you
Like a great loving cloak
Protecting you from the world
Making you invincible
And you will know true happiness
But when on your life long expedition
And sweet love crosses your path
Ignore it at your peril
For who can say
When it might pass your way again
When sweet love crosses your path
Seize it with great urgency
Capture it and keep it safe
Do not let it loose from your grasp
Lest it slip through your fingers, and be gone
Hold it tightly
Cherish it, nurture it, and watch it grow
Until it wraps itself about you
Like a great loving cloak
Protecting you from the world
Making you invincible
And you will know true happiness
But when on your life long expedition
And sweet love crosses your path
Ignore it at your peril
For who can say
When it might pass your way again
BENEATH THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE
Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
BENEATH THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE
Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
BENEATH THE WEEPING WILLOW TREE
Like the star-crossed lovers,
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
Romeo and Juliet,
They come from feuding kin
And must hide their love
They meet in secret
Beside the quiet lake
The only sounds,
Are of the faintest breeze
Disturbing the lofty tree tops
And ducks squabbling on the lake
But despite the quiet
Fearful of discovery
They embrace hidden from view
Beneath a weeping willow tree
Whose leafy pendulous branches
Trail down into the still water
Stirred by the gentle breeze
They dip in an out of the water
Like the toes of a reluctant bather.
They kiss there in the quiet shade
And feel at once renewed
No words are spoken
Their language is of caress and kiss
Such tender converse
With limitless vocabulary
And languid pronunciation
Every syllable well employed
And when the final paragraph is reached
They end with perfect .punctuation
Stirring from their lovers languor
They tread separate paths
To rejoin warring tribes
Adopting adversarial manner
No knowing looks to be exchange
No casual brushing past
When for that exquisite moment
Hand touches hand
They must remain entrenched
Until they can once again
Embrace beneath the weeping willow tree
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