Passages to a Dark Lady….second part.
#11.
Oh that blind time could endless stay,
Beauty held precious as diamond hard,
But shadows lurk most in brightest day,
Like a stain on the soul of a lively child.
‘Twas I and I alone did break the spell,
Drove our love down into Sheol .. well ..
Regret now leaves me rot in mine own hell.
#12.
The language of love be a childish thing,
Playful, silly, prattling childish things,
Spoke with giggle, babble, panting breath,
Simple, throw-away lines, ungracious mirth.
But O so tragic when regret comes forth,
To remind one of one’s pathetic thoughts,
To twist the ear in punishment wrought.
#13.
Beauty O beauty what have I done,
Chased thee far from my wanting arms,
Bade thee curse the days when alone,
Together such pleasantries, each charms our own,
Hark now must thee move aside for another,
More thoughtful? More kind? .. less selfish lover?
Or would life’s mould cast us all to suffer?
#14.
There was a time in my youth naive,
Where I thought a kiss enough to please,
A pretty girl at my sleeve,
All was needed to solve life’s mysteries ..
Weary now in time’s long run,
Lessons not learned, wisdom undone,
What was the point now all has gone?
#15.
The Siren sung her song.
Irresistible in comeliness..yes!..I answered..
But O .. the seduction of her face,
The perils unheeded of her warm embrace.
Small things I gave..gifts and trinkets
To secure her exclusiveness.
To become but shipwrecked upon her palliasses.
#16.
We kissed, on the day she went away,
The air was heavy with the scent of cut hay.
On the day she went away.
We kissed and her kiss was as soft..as soft,
As a thrust of air from a parakeet’s wing,
Her touch; a downy feathered thing.
“I’ll call”..her parting say “I’ll call”..but never came.
#17.
Though her-self is gone, her scent is entrenched,
And memory .. more precious for the hint of hunger,
More perfect than a fleeting romance,
Perfect makes its own promise.. it remains entranced.
Now, as morn’ wakes with air on air of breath intake,
I touch her dress..with tender memories, kiss her nape.
For we were so much in love.
#18.
Nature may mark the species, history the men,
Lies shape the person fortune has already dammed,
The stupid repeat their mistakes - and
A fool is condemned in vain.
These things our memory has seen,
Not to be forgot, nor to be disdained,
Lest that we most treasure, be lost or left forlorn.
#19.
Beauty are such things once memory sees,
Cannot be forgot, nor scorned.
Things that we do treasure, to please,
Things lost or all forlorn looked for in vain,
Which I did adore is grown pale and wan,
THAT beauty that ever once was,
Is gone…is gone.
#20.
Now, behind cold glass I touch her face,
My fingers tremble on lacq’d plate
Of the silvered frame.
She smiles out at me, Siren song fills my heart.
Again she is calling..she is calling…!
I cannot resist..does she love me still ?
I am falling…I am falling…I am falling..
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