Jude Herrick | + Follow Poet |
Rhyme | + Fav Poem | Comment | Email | Print |

Sentence Sing

      A gentle rainfall, of emotions, 
whispered by the sea. 
The stage aligned as her gaze meets mine, 
     a golden treasure to me.

              A cave of solitude, 

she will find me, for a spell 
           she will bind to me, 
nestle to-of warm by and by a sea shore in a shell.
She is my nemesis, of a God scourned, my eternal punishment burn.
So on and on, we chase, of my yearn- her 
strange land to taste, 
my wasteland, ruin, 
gemscaped, sojourned continuum.

By lapping tractor beams, dressed in the private 
night of exclusivity, gown of huntress 
to preying emnity key of the unknown, 
scale of medusa, justice, 
raptors of Valkyri, dawning crown, 
of day, rays 
of proximity to speak in unimpede, as she may, 
mongrel fish as she please.

I am for her, and she freely shines for me. 
She is a revelation- as shadows play-peek aboo 
behind the scenes, Lyred puppetry 
spread upon the wall, 
looking back in grin and thrall, 
she does not recede, in fact not at all. 

Time, she bends, over and overture, 
draping like a bowed music, seed of heaven, 
caricature of my completeness, 
seven times seven.

In the theater of twilight, where whispers entwine,
a tapestry of emotion, your heart meets mine.
As gentle rains murmur their secrets to seas, 
in our silent impediment,
dance on the edge of eternity’s ease, of we.

Your gaze, a constellation, draws me in tight,
while lapping waves beckon, a soft, secret, contrite.
Dressed in the velvet of night’s soft embrace,
the dawn conspires your beauty, in a luminous grace.  

For in this moment, I am wholly for you,
the sun it is in your laughter, the stars in your view.
You are a revelation, a canvas where I am rushed anew,
with shadows that frolic, and dreams brushed through.  

Lyred puppetry sways, casting stories so grand, 
and the walls of our hearts weave a world, 
grand halls, a throne at hand in hand.
Time, a silken thread, weaves its opulent spell,
as the music of longing in mind like a siren's wail.  

Here in this dreamscape, surrender your fears,
in the soft glow of day, intrigues the old seers.
As the cloak of the inevitable draws me close, 
and the moment does ring,
does yoke, 
know forever, my dear, you are my everything, 
with rhyme, but not a slight, jest or joke.

Copyright © Jude Herrick | Year Posted 2025

Please Login to post a comment