Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Illustrious Delight

That spark of fire in your eyes that begs
An audience from mine, compels me to
Cast aside my fears and doubts; is this real?
Can mere sight tell me what I need to know?
Or is all of this merely illusion,
Some silly trick, scam, a handcrafted show
Bent on overcoming my defenses?
They beg further audience with me still,
My thoughts begin to stray from those nearby,
My eyes are filled with the color of yours,
Looking past beauteous, attire; oh
If I were not caught on a hook I'd flee,
But you keep me in your gaze. Why so sad?
Your eyes speak to me of sorrow, of pain.
Is there some fear that bid you beg of me
My presence, that I should sooth that fear? Though,
I look again and that pain is gone, lost
In the laughter of your smile; how
Did I move from the color of your eyes
To the curve of your mouth? So radiant,
And yet terrible, as though a great storm
Were perched on the edge of those pale red lips.
Are you preparing to chastise me for
Causing you so much happiness? Is the
Sight of me as painful for you to see?
Then suddenly your gaze shifts, your head drops,
You turn away from me as though you fear
My eyes could capture your thoughts. Oh I wish.
Yet now I'll never know, but with time's help
I could still discover what I saw. Love's
Fancy, or sorrow's desire? I hope
and pray for both, for love never made such
A heart more happy then when it promised
Sorrow as a companion to it's joy.

1 comment:

  1. Love's
    Fancy, or sorrow's desire? I hope
    and pray for both, for love never made such
    A heart more happy then when it promised
    Sorrow as a companion to it's joy.

    That was a beautiful work of poetry Luke. Fantastic job with the meter of the poem, and the shape you gave it.
    Keep up the good poetry, that was lovely!
    Elizabeth Wherry

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