A sea-faring vessel on Galilean
Sea, fully dutied, dawn's a storm.
The ship's crew saw Christ walk
on water -- disciples inclusive.
Peter bid to partake, Christ said,
"Come." He beheld watery life
'neath the becalm Sea Glass, and
his whole being walks over it, raises
his inner glory to Christ's glory
divine, voice of assurance.
The storm woke Peter and fear
joined the climb. The Sea Glass robs
Peter's leap of faith to a sunken fate.
" ... little faith ... room for doubt."
The storm ends, and Peter is safe
onboard.
A vessel stern bids farewell, and its
crew praising the Son of God, as a
parting wanes a shimmering glass
sea mid a new calm proverbial day.
Oh Lord, wouldst thou abandon me
my dirty hands besmirched with tears
trembling ‘mid a tortured truth
encased in walls of man made fears.
Would you pass judgment on the man
denuded of his soul
condemn the pieces of his life
denying he is whole.
Oh Lord, recant this heresy,
forgive such men their failing sight
do slowly in their darkest hour
lead them through the angst of night.
©9/18/2019
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Acquiesced amongst gypsy stardust,
dance of aroused blissfulness
knees went weak mid a zealously flirtatious
sunset, as skies intensity was enraptured
mid fierce moonbeam's caressing zeal,
fulfilling a wickedly wild aching surrender
within ardor's aroused captivation,
enthralling enchantingly obscure sunrise
sensations of endmost satiated fervency,
shorelines met heavens verve
breathless in exhalations' celestial passion,
chanted to the gods 'tween fiery escapism
risen above darkly inclined constellations,
'til consummated resplendence of night
burst forth in explosive exaltation
dreamt of ink's splendiferous poetry
Baggage within
trappings of illusions,
love packed away
in neat little compartments
gathering cobwebs at
makeshift improvisations,
dusting intermittently
if by chance a light
should shine,
never wholly untangling
the snare
mid a labyrinth of
transparent entrapment,
as violin strings continue
to unlatch the same old key
Dearness cloud ~ Tear grained servant to the sky..
Solitude is thy wound.. Condemned to weep....
A tower's leap above flesh.. Too be near ~
The good and stillness ye voice hast fallen..
Mid a dawn's serenade of all purpose....
A lavender scent....From an untold rose...
Whilst unassisted eyelids...Nod to tides...
Where some dream of gold...Whilst others gather..
Neath ye fountain's call for harvest colors....
Splendid aside thy natural harbor........
Bearer of streams....Clinging to snow summits..
Awaiting Spring.... And daybreaks thereafter..
There shall be no dusk after dawn in heaven ~
Nor earth...Whilst thee give me drink to endure...
Sweet death, have me tarry not,
greet me, for comes the morn.
Cheat the sun, that I may sleep,
complete as if ne'er born.
Entreat, do I, your embrace.
Defeat my heartbeat this night.
Meet me mid a last dreaming,
secrete this soul from sight.
written in Lento form
JOCK AND HIS DOG
Once knew a Scottish dancing geezer
Accidentally locked his dog in the freezer:
Seems the animal had just spilt
Some curds and milk all over his kilt:
Must have soaked right through his sporran.
(The dog of course was foreign .)
No Scots dog would do such a thing
As spill stuff mid a highland fling.
As Jock took stock of his tartan man-frock
The whole episode had been such a shock
The door of the freezer shut itself slam -
The dog was locked in with the ice cream and ham.
Oh but the key couldn’t be found,
Though Jock looked all around on the ground.
Turned out the dog had the key in his teeth -
He’d stolen it from the sporran sheath.
Poor dog got real cold till the police came,
Opened the freezer and on Jock placed blame.
But the dog hadn’t really suffered so cruel;
He’d eaten all the ice cream as fuel.
And the kilt was no worse for wear. . . .
But Jock’s sporran had lost all its hair.