Author Information
ELEGY WRITTEN ON AN AUTUMN AFTERNOON
How sadly sighs the autumn wind,
Who will come now that spring has gone,
The dull sunlight's heart isn't in,
The way it was on an April morn'.
Untold gloom hovers over all,
Nature's creations big and small,
A lonely barren feeling hums,
The moments as they heavily crawl.
Tall trees, how they weep their grief,
The falling leaves show how they heave,
Like maidens robbed of their ornaments,
By the cruel hands of an unseen thief.
Desolate looks wear all the paths,
The pond is there but none to bath';
The shadow pines for the soul to come,
And spread the joy of its mock wrath.
**********
How a tear gives birth to a thousand smiles:
Who cares to dote on the autumn's brown?
All are moved by those tragic sighs,
Few trace the traumas of her disguised styles!
The world consoles the weeping face,
Looks not through the laughing one,
The caress of the blooming rose is felt,
Not the pain of its shielding thorns!
Most have their desire blown off to bits,
Some get what they do not dream for;
While some, like the twirling moths,
Consume themselves in their passion's flame.
Why is all this, why are things so;
How the sad part of me longs to know,
When joy is born but out of grief,
Why doesn't autumn like spring glow!
ACROSS A GLORIOUS STREAM MY PEN DID WONDER
'Across A Glorious Stream My Pen Did Wonder'
and happened upon a scene
nine years before me cast
what glorious images that tender
tireless mind of his
did construct
luring me more and more
farther and still farther from even his
complicated past
such depth of mind from a man I'd later
grow to love oh so terribly much
I am not surprised
but happily captivated
his great love caught me in a rush
from so much pain
with his lovely words still he lifted
wooing me yet again
near an entire decade back
what a glorious wooer's
grand ability he has employed
to oh so lovingly attack
by such clever use of his sensuous craft\
no other man could even hope to destroy...........
Nov. 29, 2010 611am)