Tag Archives: love

At The Start

At the start
A heart
I sought.
I thought
That I caught
Delicious fish,
A dainty dish
For a sorrowing king,
But the thing
Was an eel.

The first deal
Being done
I continued to run
After fun.
The sun
Sometimes shone
(As it does today)
As I half-heartedly did play
At romance.

I still dance
From time to time
And, perchance
The false
Is set down in rhyme.


The Afternoon Sun Will Soon Be Done

The afternoon sun
Will soon be done
And each bird that does sing
Will fold it’s wing
In sleep.

Why do I keep
Indoors and maintain
This sad refrain?

All will pass,
Lad and lass,
But until then
There is ink in my pen
And I trust sufficient time
For more than mere rhyme.

A Flower Found Within A Book

Shall I compose a poem about a blood red
Poppy that I discovered in a book,
And how I took
It dead
From within the grieving leaves?

Shall I say
How, yesterday
I placed that flower
In a carved
Box where it will languish, love starved
For countless hour?

The book I had when we met.
I forget
Why the flower (paper thin)
Was there with it’s sharp pin
Still intact.

I remember the fact
Of you and me
Buying part
Of a once living tree.
Each heart
Is dying or dead

On seeing a happy couple

On seeing a happy couple, I smile
For there is no denial
That love
Is good.
Yet, after a while
I can not help but ponder on
How love is here, then gone.

Each joke
Which now produces laughter
May cause her to choke
On her anger in the end.
Or perhaps she will pretend
And maintain
A fixed smile to hide her disdain.

Coupledom is fun
Until her dress, thrown haphazard on the floor
Loses it’s alure
And his sweaty feet
Forever defeat
Passion’s heat.