My soul seems to be hidden today.
Where can it conceal itself?
I thought it was always with me,
Roaming the endless paths
That clatter the corridors of my mind,
coursing through my arteries and veins,
invading all essential organs
that keeps me alive all day.
Maybe it flew away
Like some mad eagle that lost its way!
I will not search for it.
It will return when it feels
There is a need for it.
My feet follow tracks unknown
Oblivious of time and space.
I meet old friends and strangers,
I pass on,
I do not recognise their mien.
I thread through paths lined
With rampant dark green ferns,
I slush through shallow muddy pools,
I rest below the copious hedgerows.
Down in the valley cows are milked,
Geese cackle and cocks crow,
Cats copulate in peace.
Fragrance of new-cut hay
Makes my nostrils flare.
Smoke billows from the chimney
Of an old cottage near the farm.
Should I invite myself,
Betake a country hearty meal?
I am welcome
Urged to taste the home-brewed beer
Or the new fermented cheese.
I feel a kind of peace.
Perhaps my soul is back
Or perhaps it's the beer or the cheese.
Who can say?
Close up,
Beautiful golds and yellows erupt,
As I look through the microscope,
Be careful on the stope,
Don't trip, or the fools will mistake,
And betake,
It's beautiful crystal formations,
All in one station,
Packed together as one,
Glittery, golden, crystal sun,
Tricking all and pretending to be another,
I bet it wants to be more important, if it had its druthers,
Lines everywhere,
A mix of colors making me stare,
Eyes have to dart around to find the different shades of gold,
Small or big specks of yellow, so bold,
It fools everyone, making them question,
Whoever holds possession,
Look closely at its setup,
Close up.
I sit under a large Nuttall oak
its leaves protect me from the sun.
Around me, lizards abound
as they scuttle in and around
the soap stones and other rocks.
Silence abounds except for the melodious
Singing of light brown Veery birds,
With their mysterious sweet voice,
While cicadas strum their mystic song.
Time for my solitude,
Away from disagreeable persons.
Not everyone loves to be alone.
In truth neither do I,
but occasionally it is a must.
I need to ponder my past in seclusion.
As evening approaches I wander
lonely among the lofty hills.
Below are verdant vales and winding rills
A pleasure to sore eyes.
Alas, my joy is ephemeral.
My time is up.
I betake myself back home
Where I know my love waits.
It does not feel right to be always alone.
The shy sun withdraws behind purple hills
As the dark sky lights up with silvery stars.
Oh, what beautiful scene, it fills me with thrills.
I go my way amongst the winding narrow paths
Of the dimly lit quaint houses of the small haven.
Breath-taking vista, night after night it lasts.
Soon I betake myself to my most popular tavern.
My stomach rumbles a bit with lack of food.
The Italian chef beams at me, twirling his moustache,
“What speciality shall we serve you, what is your mood?”
I decide to let the famous chef choose for me.
I know his tastes as he knows what I need.
Suddenly I hear of an ethereal tune of the deep sea,
As my charming Martha comes with her romantic song.
Ah, my sweet fantasies and yearning affections
Send me to seventh heaven as she twirls her skirt so long.
The meal I eat as I watch her dance. But soon
Her lavender fragrance fills me with joyous call.
All is quiet as she sits on my lap, such is our nightfall.
It's cold embrace takes me
A gasp fills my lungs
The first time I've felt full
I understand clarity
It speaks purely in tongues
Mimicking the devil
A troubling familiarity
The burning ache
My body soothes
Ghostly hands take me softly
Nirvana I shall betake
I lie still in her grooves
Nirvana, I await
Tired I betake myself to bed.
The countryside is much too dark tonight.
Harbinger of a storm.
Who cares! Let it do its worst.
Rumbles and lightning affect me not.
I'm so exhausted I doubt I'll hear
the reverberating thunder overhead.
Suddenly I wake up. I hear a call, a scream.
The house is dark and spooky,
the call echoes all around the place.
It chills my arthritic bones.
I'm scared to move
as footsteps plod on steadily near.
The door opens.....
Is it a ghost? Is it transparent?
Where is it's glow? All is dark.
I peer into the doorway.
My son looks at me tear eyed
He is afraid of the storm.
Jumps on the bed and snuggles up to me.
Welcome happy dreams.
'Ere the sun sinks
and thy love falls endless
may this moment pause in beauty
to ponder thy kisses
My scarlet rose of love
betake my spirit truly
as twilight falls gently
at last my heart sings
II
I thirst for thy comfort
and drown in pure harmony
for our passion shall prevail
into morning tenderness
Warmth of thy hands
bring craving for desire
feel my barren skin
against thy pale hands
July 4, 2017
~In reply to Rick's prelude shown below~
I am your rose, free of thorns
walk beside me and conceive
our spirits mingling in love
hearts singing in perfect harmony
A sweet concerto beneath the stars
duet applauded by a haloed moon
in refrain, our kisses lingering
'ere the sun casts the glow of dawn
~ Rick's Prelude ~
'Ere the sun sinks
and thy love falls endless
may this moment pause in beauty
to ponder thy kisses
My scarlet rose of love
betake my spirit truly
as twilight falls gently
at last my heart sings
~June 29th, 2017
Eight Lines of Beauty~Lyrics
Sponsored by: Rick Parise
He betake himself to his room
Does a clear blue sky betokening a bright day?
His motivating memory needs to retrace the day,
The reverberating revival and the doom.
In the boulevard, sloppy and slippery
Derelicts yet living on the streets
Where are the members of the expedition?
Buster! Prominent players on the pains.
In his fatherland, full of luxuries,
Where he is used and kicked
With nothing like honey moon or period
His readiness is there forever,
Like compatriots who look to their history.
For words he wails in himself is not of doubt:
What goes around, comes around
And what comes the world goes the world.
A deranged attacker, could he be?
He betake himself to his room
Does a clear blue sky betokening a bright day?
His motivating memory needs to retrace the day,
The reverberating revival and the doom.
In the boulevard, sloppy and slippery
Derelicts yet living on the streets
Where are the members of the expedition?
Buster! Prominent players on the pains.
In his fatherland, full of luxuries,
Where he is used and kicked
With nothing like honey moon or period
His readiness is there forever,
Like compatriots who look to their history.
For words he wails in himself is not of doubt:
What goes around, comes around
And what comes the world goes the world.
A deranged attacker, could he be?
Steel Horse mine I did betake
to ride aloft on Eagle's wake.
The wind forsooth I sought to ride
but hard was surface, on my pride
The wise with prudence, they have won
My life forsooth was nearly done.
Like leaf which withers through nature's ire
some of us must go through fire
Gained many nicks it's sad but true
far better though, than Coffin new.
On steel Horse mine I did betake
to ride aloft on Eagle's wake
The wind forsooth I sought to ride
but hard was surface, on my pride
the wise with prudence, they have won
My life forsooth was nearly done
Like leaf which withers through nature's ire
some of us must go through fire
gained many nicks I did it's true
far better though than Coffin new
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