We

Why did we meet, lost, hurt, unknown?
Perhaps ’twas Fate, that e’er sly trickster;
Oft she plays, plots plans betwixt
Her list’ning ears; her eyes are fixed
On unsuspecting mortals, ‘lone.

Why did we meet, lost, hurt, unknown?
Maybe ’twas He who made the earth;
Seems likely He would find some mirth
In leading us from very birth
To find each other once we’d grown.

Why did we meet, lost, hurt, unknown?
Mayhaps ’twas naught, no fleeting thought
No meaning, tale, nor story wrought
A chance encounter, one unsought;
And to your arms I’ve blindly flown.

I know not why we met that night;
But glad am I for ev’ry day
And ev’ry hour and ev’ry ray
Of Sun that shines as if to say:
“O, lovers, ask not why today
No longer ye are off, away
One from the other; now allay
This doubt, no heed need you it pay.”
Such love we keep, it must be right.

Some Forgotten Night

~This is an old one, but I thought it worth sharing~

pexels-photo-842654.jpeg

Darkness falls around me
Shadows mock and jeer
I cannot sleep too soundly
With all the noises here

I question what I’m doing
And where I’m meant to go
Which dames I should be wooing
Which seeds to caref’lly sow

And so t’the stars I gaze
With wonder, awe, and spite
In an imbibéd haze
On some forgotten night

Sonnet 3 – Here, at the Gates

winter-sunset-evening-purple-791079.jpegI have not seen you here before today


Here I’ve not been, but hear I of this place
I closed my eyes and here galloped apace


And here ever you now will have to stay.


What? Never can I leave, visit my home?
I’ve not yet said good-bye, nor finishéd
The story I had written in my head
Will I remain undone, astray, alone?


Fair Child, fret not, your story is not o’er,
Those left behind will ever tell your tale;
You have done well–look now to starry veil
And set aside your burdens evermore.

For rest you must, so shed not one more tear
At peace you’ll be forevermore, Child–here.

Bardsong I

In open sea, in timeless hour,
A legend sails against the winds;
Its speed is its defining pow’r;
It flies far from its many sins.

She’s captained by a forlorn soul,
A lonely man with heart most true,
Whose stalwart ship does pitch and roll
Unbreaking in the wat’ry zoo.

They ’round the world have ever fled,
And, seldom seen in realms of men,
His kin and hers assume them dead
And neither pine for new brethren.

Beknownst to few, the tragic pair
Run with empathic anima;
They sail in oceans rough and fair,
The Captain, and Virgilia.

Continue reading “Bardsong I”