You are Beautiful

In you do I see,
More beauty than the sea,
More wonder to me,
Than a sequoia tree,
More gentle grace than a dove,
Winging in the sky above,
Better fitting than a silk glove,
Are you for me, my love,
You are amazing,
To my eyes your bring,
Tears every time you smile or sing,
And my heart has felt the sting,
Of longing for you,
And no matter what I do,
This one thing is true,
That I love you.

Taste of a Free Mind

When you set your mind free,
Anything can be done quickly,
It may start slow,
And gently grown,
But someday that tree,
You will see,
Has grown quite tall,
And will never fall,
It is a gift true,
But you must also do,
That which will make it grow,
Or you will never know,
What it could be,
Or how it tastes to be free.

How to Compose Poetry

It will become easy with time.
You don't even have to rhyme,
Tis not a crime,
To drop them like a dime,
And not pick them up again,
To spill them in a spin,
Like a whirlwind that does rend,
Even the best of men,
Just say what is upon,
Your heart before its gone,
You just have to don,
Your minds poetic dawn.
It is a gift, but also a skill,
So do you have the will,
To practice it still,
Till your hearts fulfill?

Hero and the Monster

*This has lots of dualities in it... Have fun looking for the symbolism
and duality if you are so inclined. If not oh well enjoy.*


Sword in hand,
Ready to make his stand,
Torch raised high,
As eye seeks to try,
To discern through the dark,
To catch some mark,
Of the hidden beast,
That it might not feast,
Upon his flesh and bones,
He can hear it prowling it moans,
The grating of its claws on the walls,
The cackling mockery of its calls,
Taunting him in the dark,
Circling, in night grim and stark,
Hand gripping blade tighter,
As torch grows lighter,
Knowing beast will wait,
Till light is gone to sate,
His thirst for blood,
To grind this loan warrior into the mud,
They say it takes one to know,
How another’s life truly does go,
So then perhaps the best,
To lay a monster to rest,
Is also the same and the one,
Who once in darkness did run,
His heart strong and brave,
He will not go quietly to his grave,
Tis not from pride,
That he will not cower and hide,
Like his fellow ‘men’,
Every time the monster comes again,
He simply knows he cannot bend,
He has another to defend!
Thus he has descended from world above,
To kill the beast, protect his love,
That she might not be taken in stark night,
And devoured in a world of fright,
The torch sputters its last,
The die is cast,
The blade is thrust,
And this you can trust,
One might creature died there,
And one rose into the glare,
Of the morning son,
But which one,
Rose from depth of heart,
After claws and blade did part?
Which reigned as a king,
Which felt death’s sting?

Love Saw Me Weep

Also placed upon my private blog.

Love saw me weep,
When upon a fair night,
I let them emotions creep,
And did not fight,
To suppress my agony,
That was dwelling within,
The agony nearly consuming me,
This pain of being alone among men,
And Love, he grasped my heart,
And lifted me to my feet once more,
And pulled out the deceivers dart,
And said words that rocked me to my core,
“Write of your heart to my daughter fair,
Tell her what dwells inside,
Tell her how much you care,
Hide nothing that in your heart dwells there,”
Love did not promise relief from woe,
He promised an answer to my question dire,
That I would at least know,
If in her heart to dwelled the fire,
But I feared I would receive,
A swift shard shattering denial,
Not an answer that would relieve,
The anguish and the trial,
But I wrote to this angel,
With whom cruelty has no part,
Who’s charms only could fell,
The armor around my heart,
And her reply,
Brought me to the place,
Where I might cry,
Not in agony and disgrace,
But comforted by her,
This woman, angel of mercy,
Love, God’s daughter,
Who taught me,
Once more to be human,
Taught me to hate my sin,
Taught me to love again,
And I only long for the day when,
We might be together,
Mi Amor, and I,
By Love’s strong tether,
A rare matching of tiger, and butterfly.

Why Do I Sin Again?

Why do I sin again and again,
Proving I’m lowest among men,
Why do I that which I hate,
Constantly taking the bate,
Thrown out by the deceiver,
Why do I choose to be the receiver,
Why do I take the line,
Why do I allow flesh to dine,
Upon this pernicious poison dish,
He has me by the gills like a dying fish,
Lord please cut me free,
Help me to be,
Set free from this sin,
Help me to never do it again,
I want to do,
The right and true,
I never again want to harm,
Another by taking these false charms,
I only wish to show You,
And Your daughter in all I do,
A pure, holy, sanctified love,
In a circle of beneficence from above,
Never more in sin to defer,
But only purest love to You and to her.
Forgive me my princess, and You my King,
Forgive once more this wretched thing,
May I prove I prove in time to be,
Worthy of all the faith placed in me.

Beyond Compare

Like a sunset upon the sea,
Or a single dew drop poised on tree,
Like a rainbow in the sky,
Or the richest purple dye,
You are beautiful beyond compare.
Next to you none of these are fair.
Even lightning in the night,
Illumining all, so bright,
Or the roll of thunder there,
Doesn't even dare,
To compare to your beauty, true,
Nini, I love you.

Potent Phrase

How many men can look upon an angel,
Before passing to heaven or hell,
Much less to see one,
As frequently as the noon sun,
Which passes daily by,
Up brilliant in the sky,
Yet I get to gaze so deep,
Till my eyes nearly weep,
At this, the greatest beauty,
God has ever shown to me,
His daughter, so angelic,
Who stirred my heart till among the quick,
My beloved, whom I love,
This gentle daughter of above,
Whom I wait for every day,
That I might someday say,
While others gather around,
And mortal heart does pound,
On the night we are wed,
Words rushing from heart once dead,
That potent phrase,
"I will love you till end of days."

Patience

What is this thing,
We are asked to bring,
Forth in our lives daily,
That we might someday be,
United together once more,
Not upon separate shore,
This virtue that stands,
Straight and true as bands,
Of iron strong and proud,
The last after the crowd,
Has all tired and gone home,
Back in mediocrity to roam,
This virtue that waits,
No flailing around for chance or fate,
The virtue that endures time,
Beyond when waiting seems a crime,
This virtue, patience, by name,
Who has one claim to fame,
That is, she waits long,
Long past when others once strong,
Cease to endure and wait,
When others admit their fate,
When had they but stood,
Strong and stiff as wood,
Perhaps one more day,
They would be able to say,
That it was worth the cost,
The risk of all being lost,
This time spent waiting,
When impatience is grating,
Upon the mind,
And doubt is so unkind,
Put patience is a virtue,
Which is uniquely true,
In this regard,
It is only as hard,
As one more day,
Of hoping for sun in the grey.

No Fanfare For Common Men

Shadows of the night,
Slithering at edge of light,
Enveloping like a wave,
All those who would brave,
To step away from light’s beam,
And into the silent scream,
That stalks in the dark,
Leaving its tainted mark,
Upon the courage of men,
Men that when,
Standing in the rays,
Of the light of days,
Garner admiration and praise,
For the monuments they raise,
To human achievements,
But what accolade is spent,
On those who step out,
Into the deafening shout,
Of lonely night,
That they might fight,
All wrong, and all fear?
What monument is near,
Where is the place,
For the true heroes of our race?
Who step out again and again,
Into the battle with sin.
Where is the fanfare for the one,
Who seeks to follow the Son,
Bringing His light to a dying world,
A world to which this common man is hurled,
Not by chance but by choice,
Why do not their fellow men cheer, rejoice?
It is because it is within the common life,
They make their war and strife,
Within the common they overcome the dark,
That leaves its stain stark,
Black as coal,
Upon mortal soul.
There is no fanfare for common men,
Who overcome their private sin,
Not here on this earth,
Of mortal sight and mortal birth,
But some day,
The trumpet will play,
For those who have overcome,
And followed the Son till kingdom come!
Who walked despite fear through terrors night,
And waged this, each one of our souls, fight.

Speaking the Heart's Need.

Also on my private blog.

I want to hold you in my arms,
To be lost in your charms,
To taste of you,
So many things I wish to do,
To show my love in word,
Act, Deed of the strongest cord,
To give whatever you desire,
To show this soul fire,
That God has lit inside,
This heart my chest does hide,
To show you as such,
Just how much,
I love you unconditionally,
With all that is within me,
Both in word and deed,
Speaking the heart's need,
To you, the love of my life,
God willing, my future wife.

Always Beautiful

Also on my private blog.

Whether in noons bright light,
Or shadowed in darkest night,
Whether rising from sleep,
Or about to retire into the Lord's keep,
If fresh and clean from a bath,
Or sweaty from what the day hath,
When singing so melodically,
Or sitting in silence with me,
There is no time you're not aglow,
With this beauty that you show,
You are God's daughter fair,
And I only wish to always share,
With you my love,
Precious angel from above.

Natural Love

This poem also appears on my other private blog.

Rain falls down,
From the crown,
Of high heaven above,
So too does my love,
As I seek to pour upon you,
Love in everything I do,
Waves crash upon the shore,
With a thunderous roar,
So to does my heart pound,
Every time I hear the sound,
Of your voice upon my ear,
Or your footstep drawing near,
The wind sings,
As it moans and wings,
Its way through the forest,
So to from my chest,
From my heart,
Sings forth a work of art,
As my soul moans for you,
In ever breath taken through,
You bring out in me,
Everything that should be,
I wish to be a better man,
And do all I can,
To be strong and true,
To show my love to you,
To be strong as a mountain,
Gentle as flowing fountain,
Soft as the snow,
Quick as the winds flow,
In all of me,
It is verity,
It is strong and true,
This love, for you.

Quatrain of Questions

So it is they say,
There is many a way,
To live this life today,
That all things are grey.

Why then do caged birds sing,
If it will not bring,
The bells of freedom to ring,
It surely doesn’t lesson slaveries sting.

What is this life?
Bound up under knife,
Suffocating from strife,
While all others are rife,

With a lack of plan.
Doing things because they can.
I’m tired of living in a can.
Whirling but not moving, the blade of a fan.

There has to be,
A point here for me.
Why can’t I just see,
It in the future, present, or memory?

It’s not simply “how life goes,”
Where no one knows,
I refuse to be among those,
Caught helpless in the floes,

Of time and chance,
Living inside a moment’s glance,
Pierced by temporalities lance,
And forced by the present to prance.

There is something more,
I know this in my core,
I simply must find that door,
Or land upon that shore,

I refuse to believe,
That chance is the sieve,
By which opportunities come and leave,
Or makes the left behind grieve,

We each will serve a roll,
I refuse to be part of the shoal,
Ambling on with but a petty goal,
Till the day the bell does toll.

I serve the maker of time,
Who spoke the universe aptly as a rhyme,
And I will not believe the perpetrating slime,
Who act as if faith is a crime.

Lord forgive us our sin,
We weak mortal men,
For not listening again,
And heading our flesh our skin,

Help me my king,
To in this world lost bring,
True faith, golden, like a ring,
And let obedience harmonically sing.