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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • TO THE MUSE

     

    From the thick branches of my days I have gone up to look at you
     With deliberate confidence 
    - For I knew you always 
    you'd still be waiting for me in the shelter of our years.
     I can't waste what seems like a surplus
     I'd be a waste of my life with you by my side.
     You're burning around me 
    Like a caring firefly 
    secret star of a man, 
    and you are forced to burn brightly as 
    as a flame of unceasing flame, 
    and shine like a petal of a flower without ceasing.
     
    With stubborn stubborn head I could conceal
     I am a coward and a cowardly vomit,
     that thy stubborn stubbornness with thee
     ...will yet be with me... 
    and make me grow a new suit of armour.
     on my vulnerable conscience.

     - Thou didst caress it as long as thou couldst
     my stray, panting cauldron:
     with my head bowed, it would have been so good
     To bend down in the valley of thy lap.
     Oh, but often I have let it go lightly,
     that I had priceless 
    Thou wast thy pearl of thine own true lusts upon me.
     Now thy tormenting absence of Midness-volta comes out upon me
     - after all these years, like an apocryphal cipher.
     It caresses the gears of my brain, 
    and beckons to me many a precious treasure of thine from the mists of our past,
     that doth make mischievous streams,
     The melody of thy Edenic laughter 
    The gentle summer breeze drifts to me. 

    From the tangled boughs of my days, waiting for courage
     I looked up to you, for I felt
     A glowing brown-silver root in your single eye
     The million tiny lights
     Shine and shine for me alone.
     And I always know when you're wavering,
     When you play or when you say
     When you tell me the unalterable truth.
     
    You light up around me like a hopeless 
    in my prison-ridden nights the star of evening sun
     and thy sunbeam-bright smile is the jewel-lock of thy fidelity,
     thy confession that thou mayst love me even now.
     - They are waxing now in the far departed lunar dawn,
     sleepless mornings: 
    Thou wast with me in the fertile lap of our bed
     and in thine own way wilt thou dream on and on.
     
    Thou givest me yet strength of spirit, 
    perseverance, unselfish conviction.
     and determined will. 
    Thy true pearl of tears 
    Your caring palace 
    Thou buildest diligently around me!
     And while my restless soul
     Wants its peace and its peace apart. 
    in thy cherishing Angel's gaze
     All life's answer is ready!      

     

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