If Not For Love
If Not For Love
by Michael R. Burch, circa age 18
The little child who cries,
brushing sleep from startled eyes,
might not have awakened from her dreams
to fill the night with plaintive screams
if not for love.
The little collie pup
who tore the sofa up
and pleads here in a mournful crouch,
might not have ripped apart the couch
if not for love.
And the little flower pot
that broke and littered the rug with sod
might not have been dropped if a child had not tried
to place it at her mother's bedside—
if not for love.
Tonight how I miss you
by Michael R. Burch
for Beth
Tonight how I miss you, as never before,
though morning is only a moment away.
Oh, I know I should sleep, but I lie here, distraught,
as you flit through my mind—such a wild, haunting thought.
And love is a dream that I lately imagined—
a dream, yet so real I can touch it at times.
But how to explain? I can hardly envision
myself without you, like a farce without mimes.
Deep, deep in my soul lurks a creature of fire,
dormant, not living unless you are near;
now, because you are gone, he grows dim, and in dire
need of your presence, he wavers, I fear . . .
How he and I wish, how we wish you were here.
Crocodilian, Shining Bright!
by Michael R. Burch
apologies to William Blake (but he might approve)
Crocodilian, shining bright,
In the Nile by pale moonlight,
What immortal hand or eye
Dared frame your fearful symmetry?
In what veiling depths do you
now glide like death—unerring, true
to your strange nature, till you rise
to awe, dismember, terrorize?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of your heart?
And when your heart began to beat,
What dread hand? (& will we meet?)
What great hammer forged the chain
Of your strange armor? What cruel brain
imagined jaws so strong, so cruel,
so full of teeth and bloody drool?
When the stars’ immaculate light
First brushed you on that sixth dark night,
Did he who formed you laugh to see
Your teeth agleam, your eye on me?
Crocodilian, shining bright,
In the Nile by pale moonlight,
What immortal hand or eye
Dared frame your fearful symmetry?
I have a vivid memory of writing "If Not For Love" while I was still living with my parents, probably around age 18. There had been some sort of accident in my mother’s bedroom involving the family dog, and as I left after helping to clean up the mess.
Keywords/Tags: love, child, childhood, children, dream, dreams, night, nightmare, screams, cry, cries, collie, pup, puppy, dog
Copyright ©
Michael Burch
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