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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required A poet of a thousand words The pen garnished by the flame Like a sea no desire knows And love becomes the same As poet to my love for thee I confess between the lace Of time and every sorrow made I find my dream just as agonized As seas of fate where time And words exquisite as your faith And face can make no memory Like a rose aspires in both sunlight’s rise And wake upon a cross of lucid belief Where love and lace find no shame Surreal beneath beauty’s chains A Poet of a thousand words But if my love I think that time Can bring me to all destiny Time as statuesque as truth Shall bring me again to you For there my love the shadows know Every shadow I have yet to show In shades of sorrow and distant hope Where words become each touch I yearn I find no sorrow made in rhyme A blush of time and poet’s blood For there is sorrow’s exquisite sea It regrets not nor ever again can be But like a renaissance of vanished love No ghost can haunt me now enough Nor thrive expired beneath the sun Each moment when the day is done As poet to my love for thee Every time I die A thousand words are brought to life With words I love and poets fire Yet ambition conquers not desire Yet still there lays between the lace Exquisite words of love to give Shall I die within desires touch? Like the pen desires in all tranquility A kiss clandestine as the iris of your heart Or mine which waits both in sorrow and in time For I find in dreams of thee no like Though Helen once gave beauty fame As poet to my love for thee I boast a vision so serene Which could woo all poet’s hearts No urn of passion gently carved Nor horizon gracefully hesitates Upon thy lips and brow For now I see with gothic eyes Thy shape as chased by candlelight The movement makes no travesty Where death waits bereft of thee And beauty conquers all that is not free If my love between the lace Of time and poet’s pen I find that love is yet again For like a poet needs sweet beauty’s touch Until beyond all desire Sometimes my love a poet makes The tear within the coffin of the past From creeping with tormentous heart Athirst aghast to never see Such visions I have dreamed of thee The dusk when waning melts so free And nature blushes on thy cheeks But there I find restrained with wings The love a thousand words can bring A Poet of a thousand words And words as such no pen may write Nor time may rust so mad expire’d In breath, no earthly candor falls so grave But like a tablet born of truth it brings us to eternal youth But death and time eternal thrall Upon the stone that love has made If my love a face can make One vesper to blush or haunt my tears Then I have seen where dreams are made And poets made mad the same A poet of a thousand words Yet no words can boast of beauty’s face Nor silhouette eyes that give birth to fate I thought that raven shadows made thee fair With daisies crowning in thy hair The very fragrance heaven knows Like a naiad in the snow Serene this pale nosforatu of love I suffer like midnight meeting dusk Upon the rose that silhouettes Every touch of rain and tears to stand atop towers of oblivion Thrice wretched this mortal saint A poet of a thousand words If my love a tragedy Nevermore undying in belief In loneliness as gothic as can be I thus in faith aspire Yet ambition conquers not desire As poet of a thousand words Ife thus I hope like sorrow yields Both in the shadow and the light As smooth as lavender and lace No pen nor monument might so trace Both the beauty and the face Engraved in time’s own memory As Poet of a thousand words There lays between the lines of time Both words and rhyme Like romance desire makes If only thus sometimes to take The autumn when the sunlight’s true The season when thus rendezvoused Upon the sonnets of your face Whispering thus what beauty makes What beauty makes and I partake With time and ash I cannot touch More perfect then for God has made it such Unique blossoming in paradise The paradise of all that I can dream Though dreams and romance often make Every sorrow man has known Yet I a poet of a thousand words Burst suddenly like a comet in the heart To wake and rise each brilliant beat And know perfect beauty has its enigma Desire, thought, and truth Ife I garnish every word deemed so infinite Then I find it bland that fate can cry Or that fate itself should die When cast upon the shadows of thy face For if thralled in darkness deep As dark as sorrow can so be The pen becomes the comet of the heart And desire keeps all paradise asleep In mystery but not in truth A Poet of a thousand words The flame cooled by the sea Of time and every sorrow made Yet exquisite faith where time grows And dies upon the palest rose Like a metaphor after life When death itself has died As poet to my love for thee With words I touch your face A lip, a shade, a palest kiss, A blush of time and I have wished As poet of a thousand words To sail beyond a thousand leagues And leagues that find themselves no end For there beyond desire’s sea There lays between the lace Exquisite words of love to give To sooth this pale nosforatu of romance When ambition conquers not desire
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