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David B. Gosselin Poem
The Sea
My sleeping spirit wakes
As the town’s vespers
Climb the stairless sky
And the sea whispers.
The rushing waves crash
On the craggy
Shores of consciousness
And the sea whispers.
Like an ancient song
Or some sailor's dirge
Which the pale waves hum
As the seas surge.
Through the hidden grottoes
And deep cavern waters;
The countless demesnes
Through which she whispers.
Through some magic seashell
On some antique shore
Echoing, a thousand words
Of sage like lore.
On the earthly sod,
Of buried treasures
And sunken ships
She quiet whispers.
Like a forlorn nymph
Weeping sorrowful rivers
In some hallowed cave,
As the sea whispers;
Hoping for love’s tidings,
Her quiet vespers
Over boundless seas
Softly, she whispers.
Like a sinking swan
With broken feathers
Whose soul flies
On the sea's whispers.
So my dreaming spirit
Slumber enters
As clouds veil the moon,
And the sea whispers.
Copyright © David B. Gosselin | Year Posted 2017
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David B. Gosselin Poem
I know why the red rose weeps
Why she hides her tears in dew
As the summer breezes sweep
From those seas of shimmering blue,
And then like our dreams
She fades with the morning dew.
I know why the red rose weeps
Through the dreamy months of June
As the golden breezes sweep
Over the ocean rocks, hewn
By Neptune’s tide
As he guards each sailor’s tomb.
And I know why the red rose weeps
While birds sing their matin lay
And a gentle breeze sweeps
Our cares somewhere far away
To where the grasshoppers leap
And the happy children play.
I know why the red rose weeps
Through dreary September
As the cold wind keeps
Songs that are more sober
And sap slowly seeps
Into lonesome October.
And I know why the red rose weeps
Through those months of January
As the ice wind creeps
Through her sanctuary
And the summer’s cradle
Becomes her cemetery.
For when the rose parts with its petals
And the fragrance of its dying breath
On fleeting breezes settles
Seeing her beauty bereft
While the air carries the ocean brine
Makes life all the more sweet with Death.
I know why the red rose weeps
When her buds have yet to see the day
When beauty still sleeps
Through flowery May
And the frost still keeps
Our dreams at bay.
For as when one can almost hear
The sun’s rays dancing
On the golden fields
And each frond spreading
As the wind softly passes
And the skylarks sing,
So I know why the red rose weeps
Why she hides her tears in dew
As the golden breezes sweep
From those seas of shimmering blue
And then like our dreams
She fades with the morning dew.
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Copyright © David B. Gosselin | Year Posted 2018
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David B. Gosselin Poem
Behind the sparkling light in all men's eyes
Across the wide arcade of twinkling skies
Lie hidden hopes and dreams of those who died
Who wished but not in vain to have tears cried.
Their story goes like many who have gone,
Yet nameless, still ringeth their clarion:
Like the wind that carries the trumpet's call,
Or the waves that take us through life's falls;
So must the smallest flicker our guide become
Our only guide in life through the maelstrom,
Like glimpsing the light of a nameless star
Who leads us to ‘n fro places afar.
Such things as turn men's sights into a haze
May be those things which change our ways,
Like that shining light of a nameless star
Out in the corner of the skies afar,
Which causes us to wonder at the sky
As our hearts with the unknown come nigh.
Thus wits lie solely in these shapeless skies
Whose forms to the eye remain in disguise
But light when caught in the corner of one’s eye
Across the arcades of the mind's peaks high
That twinkling spec in the eyes of mortals
Reminds us all of that immortal;
Like that shining light of a nameless star,
Out in the corner of the skies afar.
Copyright © David B. Gosselin | Year Posted 2017
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David B. Gosselin Poem
Life is like a waking dream
The ripple across a fading stream
Mixed with laughter and crying
A beginning and ending.
It's fragile like a quiet dove
Who longing for his mate's love
Knows with a touch it could shatter
But risks it all for the matter.
Copyright © David B. Gosselin | Year Posted 2017
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