When better days turn-in to better nights
I dare-not dream for seldom they appear,
Tho' absence of the Sun and all it's lights
Have too the darker sky of greater fear:
That season's gold have rusted deep in prime
When any day were that to be revered
And cherished like a mother of a time;
Born out from hope, when fog of doubt had cleared.
So this; a night of rarest beauty seen
By cause unknown nor form be sightly found
Let sleepless air be breathed till Dawn has been
And fate of coming blackness has me bound:

Then I shall weep as sadness weeps it's ways
May-not for sadden's sake, but those good days.

When all my substance needs not breath of air
And eyes devolve into the depths of night
Would grace of her divine renew me there-
Between love's cast and love's eternal sight?
No sweeter seraph could deliver mine
If the archangel flew to me herself!
Nor sacred words resaid of love divine
When earthly lips proclaimed of love ourself.
With tiny carriage shall my lover bring
Our cherub! Stilled from life that's yet to live,
On gilded hands my child shall hear me sing
Oh babe I love you so and love shall give:

Beyond my death and far as far need be
Where she and babe resides, there too find me.

If you with wit and patience reach my chest
And veer in left, be wary of your find:
For you'll become in maze far from my best;
Of scars to newer love, won't be so kind,
As they do mourn like many broken doves;
Together bound that kin have no increase
And call the call of pain from older loves
To flock upon your path, that yours decrease.
But with your loveliness do I believe:
My bitter selves nearby my heart remold-
To grace that yours become my love's reprieve,
Then journey you'd so braved had found my gold:

In golden depth there's hope, but let you know:
If you retreat, how can I blame you so?

Your single-hood gives time to beauty's waste:
Such charity you will in time donate,
Why give then now when bitter shall it taste-
To see your prize transfer, some distant date.
Recall your mother's grace, gave you your start
Yet do you so deprive another's dream?
To wear as proud the beauteous of art,
And claim of yours the womb of their own gleam!
For loveliest of forms, we need of more,
Spare thought for eyes of many, future's gaze
Who may deny your beauty as past lore-
Unless yourself do give by form your praise,

Alone bequeaths that soil's sole beauty's heir
To live past dust, another you must bear!

When I return by thought to youthful days;
I sprightly swing upon those swings again,
And wonder how the setting sun replays-
The glory's change of light to nightly gain.
Remembering that night alone brought fear:
That somehow in that darkness I'd be lost;
Alike that Sun I too would disappear-
Onto a lonesome plain, by threshold crossed.
Then I would cease the swings and too have left:
My wondrous gaze that wondered 'bout the far;
Denying light to night's own daily theft,
From then, reciting hence this twofold scar:

Retreat, do all the light when darkness creeps
Perhaps shall prove I'm one, if mine it reaps.

A morbid turn of thought has led me here-
At night, where all the dead do rest in earth
How sickly strange the soil, knows how I fear-
This graven yard of death, and deathly birth.

To then torment myself, I visit hers;
The grave upon my heart and on my love
I taunt an older spell, a book refers:
"bring whom lay here, their spirit from above,

Let none the hardened soil halt thy path
Revive this parted soul and gift her air;
To crawl from out the deathly calls of wrath
To walk upon her ghastly bed to fair,

If this be done then I do promise thee;
My soul unto the force that gifts her 'wake,
Relinquish then this body's husk and be
Where I am deemed to whom her soul's remake".

I wait reply, with none a hope in breath,
But sweeps a gust of wind about her leaves
And there an eerie chatter out of death!
'By God!' I thought, is this to be, she breathes?

The leafage seemed to hear and then responds-
With whispers 'mongst the rustle... 'here she be,'
Without no pause, the mound implodes! With fonds-
Then whirling, whispers weeping, to then see:

Out crawls my frailed, deceased, beloved Ruth
Whose form still bears the scars of death decays,
I'm stilled by horrid screams of torrid truth
'What have I done to you?' my love dismays.

Her falling jaw with eyes of pain, now speaks....
'now 'tis below thine self must claim this grave,'
It's then do I recall, as terror wreaks;
That I did bargain then, my soul to slave.

By unseen force, I fall deep in the hole
And lay inside her coffin, ready splayed;
As still as dead, my light in life have stole
As closed the cast with dirt upon me laid.

Entombed, I scream, but none alive can hear;
By love I lived and love's me buried here!

Should twenty more of yours and all the same
Proclaim that they are you and you for me:
What tells could tell wherein my love became-
And where my love by one shall ever be?
Yes, eyes be all of blue and whitish snow
When met with mine hue even more azure,
And blondy lush of hair; do summers' show
By sway that gold commands and winds allure,
With equal tones may all review my write,
Ah! whom most moved, aware that she's my muse;
With hand to voice bare not the read's recite;
Then turn and run to me with love's enthuse!

Yes beauty plays it's part in lovers' choice
But heart reveals your love's the greater voice.