Best Madrigal Poems

My Amber dear, awake to me. 
My madrigal has melody
in trills of the gold finch that you hear.
Awake to me, my Amber dear!

It’s dawn. ...

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~You Need To ~
( Italian Madrigal )



You need to keep the door opened to love
Forgive past hurts, love, reach from above
Measure to His Word, 'cause...

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Sleep's the Great Healer—
Sleep's the Revealer
Of hidden meanings,
Unbidden gleanings.

When sorrow aches us,
Sleep overtakes us—
Stealing away grief,
Like a welcome thief.

Night is the coverlet
For a longing lover—...

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(Italian Madrigal) 


You need keep door open'd to love 
Forgive past hurts,reach from above 
Measure to His Word,God is love. 

You need keep door open'd...

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                        ...

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~You Need To~ 
(Italian Madrigal) 


You need keep door open'd to love 
Forgive past hurts,reach from above 
Measure to His Word,God is love. 

You need...

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May the first is traditionally the beginning of Spring
St Joseph is their patron saint this day to be 
the  only free day when no...

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Oh Juliet!  A memory of a love long lost in vain…
thy bridal song, a dirge of darkened madrigal becomes.
Yet thought of you, for me,...

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I perch on a rock
by white teal-roofed bungalows,
resting after my journey.
Autumn's early bloom
is a choir of falling leaves
by a quiet rippling stream.

The silence deafens
as bright...

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Crimson River

O Crimson river of Autumnal leaves!
The snow dove leans into her lover’s eyes.
He glides his fingers o’er her soul - she sighs.

The paddles splash...

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Water drop
Anguish
Cries
Out

Did I need to taste your sorrow?

She drowned me
While screaming fixated curiosities
Why I would not return

Oblivious to the obvious

Dilapidated wonder-wall
dripping concrete uncertainty

The fusion of...

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A trio of warblers jargon
a madrigal in harmony.
Their polyphony awakens
a slumbering dawn from darkness
while white dewy daffodils, like
saintly daughters of charity,
bow before the paragon sun.
A...

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(A Madrigal)

My journey’s ending where it first began,
a clownish act reversed in backward mode,
as brain cells scramble forth to read the code.  

Perhaps I...

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War, Is Unholy Hell

War is wicked rot and most holy hell
 man's evil is its murdering spell
Yet mankind never ever truly learns
 love and faith...

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Quaint town, orange sky and spitting roosters,
a trail of mosaic remembrances translates
into lavender hints of folks’ spiraled notes:
women balancing baskets of corn
strewn on the hips,...

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