My pen hovers over a blank page
As red ink drips from my wounded heart;
When bitter thoughts flow like Spring's melting snow,
A dark narrative soon fills the chart

O, please forgive the gray clouds that ensue,
But in my world sunny skies are rare;
And many a night I ponder my plight --
But no comforting words stir the air

When love's anguish cannot be constrained,
Then the heart must transcribe its lament;
Sad thoughts find release, bringing a strange peace
That's absent when heartache is pent

A bit of salt may blanket my words ---
Not of the sea and its restless tide
That comes and goes, free of all cares and woes --
But from tears these weary eyes have cried

How much must a heart invest in love
Before it receives a dividend?
Though it pays the toll, it can't reach its goal . . .
Too often, the signpost reads "Dead End"

I pray the Court of Love intervenes,
And this cruel decree be overturned!
Might there be one flower in this sunset hour
Yet to blossom  . . .  or has court adjourned?

I've no need to seek divine deity.
Seeing a glorious sunrise spread its light,
I bow in awe at this amazing feat -----
A solitary star vanquished the night.
O, the majesty of Nature's might!

And as the moon dims his silvery torch,
Feathered minstrels open sleepy eyes;
What choristers could sing a sweeter song?
(To mention angel choirs would be unwise ---
Never have their voices filled the skies)

Rainbow-hued flowers, their heads bending low
To the gentle stroking of a breeze,
Fill the air with a hypnotic scent
And the humming of delighted bees . . .
It is to such things I bend my knees

Then upward my eyes are suddenly drawn
To vaporous clouds drifting lazily,
And I ponder that enigmatic realm,
Hesitant to unfold its mystery.
(Could this be God's true identity?)

Crickets chirping, wolves baying at the moon,
From the pond, a frog croaks his opinion;
The ocean's roar, the Autumn woods ablaze ---
And over it all we have dominion.
And yet . . . I feel I'm Nature's minion

But if an elusive God is your choice,
I look upon you with  pitying eyes;
Marvels surround you, and yet you still seek
That obscure and silent, unresponsive prize . . .
An unseen God that common sense denies!

I dared not hope to glimpse Heaven
Nor sit on Contentment's throne;
A darkened abyss was my domain
And Love's radiance unknown

There was no cause for dreams to stir
Or my senses to run wild;
The indifferent ebb and flow of Life
Left my weary heart beguiled

I preferred the grave to this fate,
But you rolled away the stone
And drew forth my cold exhausted breath,
Replacing it with your own

Quietly you opened the door
To my heart and entered in;
Your loving words, spoken faint and low
Spread joy where sorrow had been

Like the muted flutter of wings
That guide a bird to its mate
Came the gentle whisperings of Love,
Silencing the voice of Fate

And so this heart, dying in degrees
(Lifeless though it seemed to be)
Bounded with glee when it heard your voice . . .
At last!  Love had called to me!

Everchanging winds of discontent
Paint temptation an alluring hue;
Gilded words softly caress my ear --
O, what anxious impulses ensue!
But then something draws me back to you

Sweetest intimations tease my heart,
Drenching my thoughts like the morning's dew;
Invitations to romance entice . . .
Dare I venture down this avenue?
Certainly not!  let this thought pass through!

The flames of temptation stoke desires
That only fealty's promise can subdue;
But the embers must not be ignored --
If unguarded,  they'll blaze up anew
And soon unfaithfulness makes its debut

Lips that have been parched by burning sighs
Quiver when a fount comes into view;
How ardently I could quench my thirst,
How inviting this seductive brew . . .
But then something draws me back  to you

Temptation exudes such sweet perfume ---
How easily a vow can go askew;
But the door to my heart is secure,
And my conscience remains free of rue . . .
Your love's tender power binds me to you

Just as the bee hums his serenade
To the rose blushing with wild delight,
Let soft murmurings flow from your lips --
Speak to me of Love . . . come thrill my night

Every spoken word becomes a flower
(Even Angels smile when you speak low;
Though divine, they cannot comprehend
How my garden blooms in winter's snow)

Love can transform time and circumstance,
Foster hope when mercy's spring runs dry;
Midst torrential rains the sun still shines,
Rainbows stretch across the midnight sky

Yet, when anguish takes aim at my heart,
Piercing it with grim accuracy,
How your words bestow Love's healing balm
Still remains a mystery to me!

How can words of Love possess such power?
When true love resides in the heart's core,
Then the words that flow are absolute,
And this pain-filled world exists no more

Carry me to that enchanted realm
Where we'll join the blessed throngs above;
I have no doubt that Heaven exists
When you whisper your sweet words of Love

Somewhere there's a man who walks alone,
Finding mercy in the  pounding rain;
What a clever way to hide his tears,
With devious deceit he masks his pain!
But the lonely do what they must do,
Casting aside Reason's guiding rein

So a woman walks down moonlit streets,
Her echoing steps amidst the crowd;
Tired eyes scan each face, seeking the man
That would  wrap her in Love's envied shroud;
I know, for her shadow is my own,
Weary in my search, but head unbowed

Onward we press in pursuit of Love,
Walking in a melancholy trance;
When a tender smile is cast our way,
Or perhaps a warm inviting glance,
Love's untrodden shore comes within view,
Bringing glorious visions of romance

Time will not tame passion such as ours,
We have dreams defeat cannot smother;
We'll lay claim to Love the years denied
As a child claims Love from its mother;
For when such hearts join, bliss is assured ---
Lord knows we were made for each other!

Pondering the gnarled vineyards at twilight,
   it is for their rare fruit that I long.
The vines have survived many a drought and blight,
   rendering them sensitive but strong

The fruits of old love are tender and sweet,
   having  learned to endure sun and shade;
Gleaning fortitude from gales, snow and sleet,
   their true value's been measured and weighed

Old love seeks the beauty that veils the heart --
The wrinkled face and the graying hair
  matter not;  Yet, what a sting they impart
  to the lonely caught in Time's cruel snare

Observe the pearl fishers -- they're not concerned
   with the oyster's shell, but with the prize
   that's dwelling deep inside, for they have learned
   precious gems lurk in cunning disguise

Satisfying are the fruits of old love ---
   so patiently they wait to be claimed
   by soft, wizened hands, gentle as a dove,
   yet revealing passion, unashamed

Because of all the sorrows and the tears
   and the many heartaches left untold,
   love that has withstood the test of the years
   is a love that's worth its weight in gold

How blessed are we who can see love's sweet truth
   unfolding before our very eyes;
We don't need the exuberance of youth
   to yield to love's call 'neath star-filled skies

Old love has had its feet held to the fire,
   and it emerged, still able to stand;
It survived the bogs of life's muck and mire . . .
What more can be said?  Old love is grand!