Gobbledygook

I opened the page
And read of a mage
Whose powers were endlessly strong

He killed many beasts
Went to royal feasts
And s’pposedly knew right from wrong

But oft was I struck
By how his good luck
E’er boded ill for all but he

He’d “rescue” a town
Yet hundreds would drown
The carnage there for all to see

“A hero he was!
“Our hero because
“The man killed the treacherous king!”

So many would cry.
(Before they did die)
I know not why for him they’d sing

Yet still he’s cheered on
This storiéd con
I read about once in a book

Some say it’s all fun
To read what he’s done
But I say it’s gobbledygook.

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~

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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.