Who holds the secret code to my heart?
Not stars, though they whisper in silver script;
not time, though it turns every lock I keep;
not seraphs, their wings aflame with living light.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who ‘knit me together,’
the One who numbers my steps and gathers every sigh
as though they were psalms.
The One who searches all things,
It is who He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the One who reads my hidden places
as easily as morning light reads dew.
None of my shadowed chambers are closed to Him,
no locked door beyond His mercy’s reach.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
the quiet sequence only His love imparts.
No earthly throne outshines his sovereign grace;
It is He who knows the fears that pull me apart.
It is He who holds me in his forgiving embrace.
It is He who holds the secret code to my heart~
Where are those kaleidoscopic rainbows?
Where are those immaculately white clouds?
Have those seraphs who constantly compose
'Glory to God' has been lost in cloud shrouds?
Thrones made of precious stones are seen no more.
Where are those souls washed by the blood of Christ?
Shouldn't each saint sing, dance, praise, and adore?
Isn't there, between heaven and earth, a tryst?
I miss the gold arcades and silver stairs.
Where are the upward-winding promenades?
Finding me standing with eyes full of tears
An angel spoke to me thus from the shades:
"You haven't lost, child, the heavenly mirth.
The heavens have now come down to the earth."
~ should seraphs not spin,
t'would be for the loss of you ...
the bright of Heaven ~
"I want nothing but death." - Jane Austen
Fatigue, weakness, and bilious attacks
I am dying day by day, night by night.
Each of my bones, like a worn-out twig, cracks.
Each split moment is an eternal fight.
My eyes yearn to see my bright day of death.
When my worries will be buried with me
Gentle breezes of heaven fill my breath.
Angels and seraphs all around I see.
Poesy has gone dry like desert streams.
Nocturnal beings pervade my blank mind.
I miss those buoyant aureate sunbeams.
Within my withering self I'm confined.
Let this life here on earth end like a feast.
Let me, from all my bondages, be released!
SILK SERAPHS
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
morning's fiery edge ascends~
kaleidoscopic procession of
pinks, blues, yellows catch my eyes.
above me, a fleet of silk seraphs
claim the cerulean sky,
sun's warmth igniting their ethereal sails.
the silk seraphs easily glide~
like dreamers across celestial skies,
they drift along effortlessly.
burners' gentle roar, a soothing serenade~
the ballonists soar in burnished metal baskets
while passengers wave as they pass by.
above quilted plains, tiny silk thrones reign~
like my wayward thoughts
they meander carefree.
the wind gently carries them higher aloft
then…..pooooof….they vanish.
magic comes with dawn’s first rays.
Written: July 06, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Craig Cornish
*****************
My path was unkempt, with cracked and bent signs
The once-azure sky turned gray, and my muse faded
Cursed seraphs hovered under lifeless skies, weeping.
In the mahonia mist of nestled truths and lost couplets in periwinkle poetry
I shoved in a cacophonous frenzy, confused—
Vade mecum was fetid with an epiphany of deceit
Silence echoed dread, and each scab was a guess
Iridescent smears of fervent deceit,
and Cupid's canopy engulfed the cetacean sonnets
A mocking wind bade shattering moans,
having learned to flaunt their tethered words
With my russet roots, I'm not a flashy flower,
but, I felt awful pain from distant love acronyms.
What if the cloudburst refrain bears no scars?
Or phosphene verses adorned with blue poppies,
might leave glowing traces on midnight shores?
I walked for miles to find that starting stanza.
Yet, despite such raucous, cataclysmic pain,
An earthquake faltered the stratus sky—
Not all who veer from the path must shatter
Obsessed, some must comply with the jostle of life.
seraphs, in eager anticipation,
collectively hold their breath
for the m o m e n t of truth...
shy young love, they root for
at last, their virgin k i s s;
a paroxysm of cheers erupt.
How do I proclaim the Jewel of Jesus;
I’m just a fool. The words delight
and disappear. How does one praise
the holy one? He’s too much for words.
I’m not worthy to lift him up in song;
I sing along with those duly gifted.
The wonder of lyrics with such treasures:
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Let highborn seraphs tune the lyre,
and as they tune it, fall;
I’ll fly away, oh glory, I’ll fly away…
How do I proclaim the Jewel of Jesus;
I’m just a fool, a fool who leans
on scripture and gleams truths.
My biblical articulation is mute;
how do you describe eternity, infinity,
true love? In simplicity, perhaps.
He was put to death by sinners,
buried and three days later
breathed forevermore; we’ve
been invited - we choose
our afterlife. Do you really
want to obtain the most precious
jewel ever offered? You can only
embrace, you can’t give Him away.
Ruby-red, sapphire-bruised, pale-opal…
Fiery-garnet eyes, many crowns on his head…
I’m just a fool to try, but I must try
to put Jesus in a human box -
can we even describe how breathless
we will be when we see divinity?
“The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man knows himself to be a fool.”
~William Shakespeare, As You Like It, Act V, Scene I
I weep by the stardust shore where seraphs sing
Tangerine tears rain despair ‘neath a velveteen veil
My melancholic muse, muslin-wrapped in ice-cold caskets
Slain by ruinous romance swirled in absinthe abstractions
Despondent sloughs bespeak the depths of my soul
Saffron scars scream sonnets through metaphorical mists
Morose melodies paint scabs on pastiche strophe
Pregnant pause, so precious, submerged in lurid lament
But then it whispered, a voice unvarnished by purple plumes
A verse, it bloomed, untainted by thesaurus bleeds
Sculpting off silken scaffolds pasted upon profligate poetry
Leaving a profounder palate for plainer prosody
Fools thought wisdom speak in sequin-laced soliloquy
But wise men abrade from calligraphic charade
"Today I am a joyous soul for across that bridge I will stroll." ~ poet
seraphs serenade the skies
strains unheard by mortal ears
chilling the darkness with notes
of ethereal richness
solo arias announce
the soulful songs of shadows
crossing the bridge to glory
extolling the most faithful
morning follows the lilting
cadence of aural tenors
singing of godly brilliance
with sweet angelic chorus
home at once, at once at home
soft as silken ribbons of
diaphanous tatted lace
comfortable and soothing
The resemblance of the omnipotence imprinted
With rare colours and shades elegantly tinted
Cherubims and seraphs adorn my being's core.
Like the capacious cosmos, I am in candour.
Senses surpass the physique and touch the psyche.
Wisdom arises beyond my likes and dislikes.
Allure becomes affection. Lust turns into love.
Divine graces, like monsoon rains, fall from above.
Consciousness and unconsciousness seem to conflict.
Connections of clear conscience, yet, within, get flicked
Like the lustre of the sun, the moon, and the stars
Rays of virtue erase naiveté’s sombre scars.
I am on earth and in heaven at the same time.
Body and soul, like church bells, are in tuneful chime.
What's heaven and hell when divine presence pervades?
The grimness of death and grave becomes godly glades.
success
will not rest
at wind up but start
pulled back in the bow awhile
seraphs linger in ride’s resist then fly high
Carry my heart in your arms through the mist between worlds,
To the place where dreams germinate and reality sheds its garments.
In a sanctuary of love, a corner of eternal spring and honeyed nights,
A couch of seraphs where souls weave embraces, innocent and fine.
Let us flee from huts where illusion builds thrones of sand and smoke,
Thoughtful antechambers where the shadows of false heroes round off.
Toward the pure ray where consciousness shines without script or scent,
In a glade of light and half-shadows, where forgiveness washes away the bluish embers.
In an ascent over the peaks, where clouds raise their kingdom,
Or down, where springs hide their sweet murmurs, depths of preserved dreams.
Destiny holds no thresholds, in the heart of the sky or in the spring of the Eleatic earth,
The secret song overflows, calls me towards your radiance, the silvery echo that consoled me.
Sing of your splendor with a lyre, in an ode not yet dreamt by the eyes of the world.
Beside you, I will be when the harbor reveals itself,
Awaiting the grace that bathes us in calm, like a wedding with the storm blessed.
All Hallows' Eve
Ghastly, Macabre
Haunting, Shivering, Bewitching
Specters, Shadows, Saints, Seraphs
Praying, Glorifying, Rejoicing
Holy, Divine
All Saints' Day
My life, like the sea, ebbed and flowed,
A world littered with peaks and valleys
A painted vision like a chiaroscuro,
When times were sometimes light, others dark.
Yet one thing I can truly say
Despite the fact you often left and returned.
I was always blindly loyal to you.
I never looked at another spouse.
I admit we were neither Cherubs nor Seraphs,
We all had our shortcomings.
Despite that, you judged me on my few failures,
However, I had my successes too.
I worked hard and achieved much,
Alas that interested you not.
Eventually, we got married.
I remained a faithful soul.
We had our ups and downs, but I was loyal to you.
So when I die I only wish for someone
To write upon my tomb’s headstone:
He loved loyally.
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