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Dream of Infinity by Michael R. Burch Have you tasted the bitterness of tears of despair? Have you watched the sun sink through such pale, balmless air that your soul sought its shell like a crab on a beach, then scuttled inside to be safe, out of reach? Might I lift you tonight from earth’s wreckage and damage on these waves gently rising to pay the moon homage? Or better, perhaps, let me say that I, too, have dreamed of infinity... windswept and blue. I wrote "Dream of Infinity" in my teens. The poem was originally published by TC Broadsheet Verses. I was paid a whopping $10, my first cash payment. It was subsequently published by Piedmont Literary Review, Penny Dreadful, the Net Poetry and Art Competition, Songs of Innocence, Poetry Life & Times, Better Than Starbucks and The Chained Muse. Not too bad for a teenage poet, I like to think. The Discovery by Michael R. Burch for Beth What use were my arms, before they held you? What did my lips know of love, before they encountered yours? I learned I was made for your heart, so true, to overwhelm with its tender force. Princess Diana Poems Fairest Diana by Michael R. Burch Fairest Diana, princess of dreams, born to be loved and yet distant and lone, why did you linger—so solemn, so lovely— an orchid ablaze in a crevice of stone? Was not your heart meant for tenderest passions? Surely your lips?for wild kisses, not vows! Why then did you languish, though lustrous, becoming a pearl of enchantment cast before sows? Fairest Diana, as fragile as lilac, as willful as rainfall, as true as the rose; how did a stanza of silver-bright verse come to be bound in a book of dull prose? Will There Be Starlight for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers damask and lilac and sweet-scented heathers? And will she find flowers, or will she find thorns guarding the petals of roses unborn? Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers seashells and mussels and albatross feathers? And will she find treasure or will she find pain at the end of this rainbow of moonlight on rain? She Was Very Strange, and Beautiful for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch She was very strange, and beautiful, like a violet mist enshrouding hills before night falls when the hoot owl calls and the cricket trills and the envapored moon hangs low and full. She was very strange, in a pleasant way, as the hummingbird flies madly still, so I drank my fill of her every word. What she knew of love, she demurred to say. She was meant to leave, as the wind must blow, as the sun must set, as the rain must fall. Though she gave her all, we had nothing left . . . yet we smiled, bereft, in her receding glow. The Peripheries of Love for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch Through waning afternoons we glide the watery peripheries of love. A silence, a quietude falls. Above us—the sagging pavilions of clouds. Below us—rough pebbles slowly worn smooth grate in the gentle turbulence of yesterday’s forgotten rains. Later, the moon like a virgin lifts her stricken white face and the waters rise toward some unfathomable shore. We sway gently in the wake of what stirs beneath us, yet leaves us unmoved ... curiously motionless, as though twilight might blur the effects of proximity and distance, as though love might be near— as near as a single cupped tear of resilient dew or a long-awaited face. The Aery Faery Princess for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch There once was a princess lighter than fluff made of such gossamer stuff— the down of a thistle, butterflies’ wings, the faintest high note the hummingbird sings, moonbeams on garlands, stands of bright hair ... I think she’s just you when you’re floating on air. I Pray Tonight for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch I pray tonight the starry light might surround you. I pray by day that, come what may, no dark thing confound you. I pray ere tomorrow an end to your sorrow. May angels' white chorales sing, and astound you. Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar [1460-1525] loose translation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue that is held most dear? except only that death is merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently? yet everywhere, no odor but rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that, if I could, I would compose her roots again? so comforting her bowering leaves have been. Damp Days by Michael R. Burch These are damp days, and the earth is slick and vile with the smell of month-old mud. And yet it seldom rains; a never-ending drizzle drenches spring's bright buds till they droop as though in death. Now Time drags out His endless hours as though to bore to tears His fretting, edgy servants through the sheer length of His days and slow passage of His years. Damp days are His domain. Irritation grinds the ravaged nerves and grips tight the gorging brain which fills itself, through sense, with vast seas of soggy clay while the temples throb in pain at the thought of more damp days. I believe I wrote the first version of this poem at age 16. bible libel (ii) by Michael R. Burch ur savior’s a cad —he’s as bad as his dad— according to your horrible Bible. demanding belief or he’ll bring u to grief? he’s worse than his horn-sprouting rival! was the man ever good before made a “god”? if so, half your Bible is libel! Keywords/Tags: Princess Diana, confusion, depression, dream, farewell, leaving, loneliness, longing, suicide, suicidal, death, infinite, infinity, eternal, eternity, grief, despair, hopelessness Published as the collection "Dream of Infinity"

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Dream of Infinity

Dream of Infinity by Michael R. Burch Have you tasted the bitterness of tears of despair? Have you watched the sun sink through such pale, balmless air that your soul sought its shell like a crab on a beach, then scuttled inside to be safe, out of reach? Might I lift you tonight from earth’s wreckage and damage on these waves gently rising to pay the moon homage? Or better, perhaps, let me say that I, too, have dreamed of infinity... windswept and blue. I wrote "Dream of Infinity" in my teens. The poem was originally published by TC Broadsheet Verses. I was paid a whopping $10, my first cash payment. It was subsequently published by Piedmont Literary Review, Penny Dreadful, the Net Poetry and Art Competition, Songs of Innocence, Poetry Life & Times, Better Than Starbucks and The Chained Muse. Not too bad for a teenage poet, I like to think. The Discovery by Michael R. Burch for Beth What use were my arms, before they held you? What did my lips know of love, before they encountered yours? I learned I was made for your heart, so true, to overwhelm with its tender force. Princess Diana Poems Fairest Diana by Michael R. Burch Fairest Diana, princess of dreams, born to be loved and yet distant and lone, why did you linger—so solemn, so lovely— an orchid ablaze in a crevice of stone? Was not your heart meant for tenderest passions? Surely your lips?for wild kisses, not vows! Why then did you languish, though lustrous, becoming a pearl of enchantment cast before sows? Fairest Diana, as fragile as lilac, as willful as rainfall, as true as the rose; how did a stanza of silver-bright verse come to be bound in a book of dull prose? Will There Be Starlight for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers damask and lilac and sweet-scented heathers? And will she find flowers, or will she find thorns guarding the petals of roses unborn? Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers seashells and mussels and albatross feathers? And will she find treasure or will she find pain at the end of this rainbow of moonlight on rain? She Was Very Strange, and Beautiful for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch She was very strange, and beautiful, like a violet mist enshrouding hills before night falls when the hoot owl calls and the cricket trills and the envapored moon hangs low and full. She was very strange, in a pleasant way, as the hummingbird flies madly still, so I drank my fill of her every word. What she knew of love, she demurred to say. She was meant to leave, as the wind must blow, as the sun must set, as the rain must fall. Though she gave her all, we had nothing left . . . yet we smiled, bereft, in her receding glow. The Peripheries of Love for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch Through waning afternoons we glide the watery peripheries of love. A silence, a quietude falls. Above us—the sagging pavilions of clouds. Below us—rough pebbles slowly worn smooth grate in the gentle turbulence of yesterday’s forgotten rains. Later, the moon like a virgin lifts her stricken white face and the waters rise toward some unfathomable shore. We sway gently in the wake of what stirs beneath us, yet leaves us unmoved ... curiously motionless, as though twilight might blur the effects of proximity and distance, as though love might be near— as near as a single cupped tear of resilient dew or a long-awaited face. The Aery Faery Princess for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch There once was a princess lighter than fluff made of such gossamer stuff— the down of a thistle, butterflies’ wings, the faintest high note the hummingbird sings, moonbeams on garlands, stands of bright hair ... I think she’s just you when you’re floating on air. I Pray Tonight for Princess Diana by Michael R. Burch I pray tonight the starry light might surround you. I pray by day that, come what may, no dark thing confound you. I pray ere tomorrow an end to your sorrow. May angels' white chorales sing, and astound you. Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar [1460-1525] loose translation by Michael R. Burch Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness, delightful lily of youthful wantonness, richest in bounty and in beauty clear and in every virtue that is held most dear? except only that death is merciless. Into your garden, today, I followed you; there I saw flowers of freshest hue, both white and red, delightful to see, and wholesome herbs, waving resplendently? yet everywhere, no odor but rue. I fear that March with his last arctic blast has slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast, whose piteous death does my heart such pain that, if I could, I would compose her roots again? so comforting her bowering leaves have been. Damp Days by Michael R. Burch These are damp days, and the earth is slick and vile with the smell of month-old mud. And yet it seldom rains; a never-ending drizzle drenches spring's bright buds till they droop as though in death. Now Time drags out His endless hours as though to bore to tears His fretting, edgy servants through the sheer length of His days and slow passage of His years. Damp days are His domain. Irritation grinds the ravaged nerves and grips tight the gorging brain which fills itself, through sense, with vast seas of soggy clay while the temples throb in pain at the thought of more damp days. I believe I wrote the first version of this poem at age 16. bible libel (ii) by Michael R. Burch ur savior’s a cad —he’s as bad as his dad— according to your horrible Bible. demanding belief or he’ll bring u to grief? he’s worse than his horn-sprouting rival! was the man ever good before made a “god”? if so, half your Bible is libel! Keywords/Tags: Princess Diana, confusion, depression, dream, farewell, leaving, loneliness, longing, suicide, suicidal, death, infinite, infinity, eternal, eternity, grief, despair, hopelessness Published as the collection "Dream of Infinity"