Orb Romance

cool-pic-of-spaceThe sun arose before the dawn
The morning of his day of rest,
With rays a-trim and beams a-shorn
He donned himself his Sunday’s best;

The astral aura fringed his crown
And cloudy frills bedecked his vest,
With trousers wrought of misty down,
His coat–a braided, cobalt crest;

And up he shone in dark of night
His wake a golden vaporous trace,
While off a-far stars twinkled bright
Below the world in sleeps embrace;

Into the heaven’s vaults serene
Beyond translucent silver billows,
That parted to reveal Selene
Reclined across her argent pillows;

And oh how radiantly he shone
To see her pale complexion flush
With love’s white heat reflected from
His ardent passion’s burning rush!

Then all around the Milky Way
Resounding o’er ethereal seas,
Celestial strings began to play
The waltz of Fate and Destiny,

And all night’s creatures awed to see
Their star a-waltzing with his queen
Go dancing ’round the galaxy
Enraptured in their lover’s dream

As hand-in-hand they twirled and swayed
In Gaia’s ballroom of the night,
Reciprocating hearts portrayed
The joys of sharing love’s delight;

‘Till in his luminosity
That passion’s bent his soul enkindled,
Like a tide gone out to sea,
Night receded, starlight dwindled;

‘The eastern skies turned fringed with light,
A draft churned mist in valley’s deep,
As birdsong broke the spell of night
And cocks crowed from the rooftops steep;

Then dawn broke o’er the world below
And Gaia sighed delightedly,
To see those love-struck orbs a-go
A-waltzing off beyond the sea.

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Barcarola

 

Nach-dem-tornado by Winslow Homer Image: wikipaintings.org

Nach-dem-tornado by Winslow Homer
Image: wikipaintings.org

Barcarola

A craftless ship afloat ill-tempered waters
With neither star nor compass to avail,
Blown on those wintry gales far from safe quarters,
Caught-fast upon a reef my yawl did flail;
For tempests of the heart will hard pursue
On passion’s tides that run love’s ocean deep,
Those ships of lovers seeking harbours new
In ports where love’s rare booty they would reap;
And wisdom’s compass is no guide for lovers,
Infatuation’s stars do but deceive,
To foil intrepid sailors, like all others,
And dash them on those ragged rocks to grieve.
Lament no more my barcarola triste,
For love is least where doleful tears persist!

The Hunter

 

Orion--The Hunter

Orion–The Hunter

The Hunter

Take aim, o’ hunter, stretch your bow
Drawn tight on arrows flight,
And loose that star-tipped astral bolt
This hardened heart to smite;

To rend these wretched tower walls
For passion’s tortured cries,
To find release and be consumed
In your eternal skies;

Behold the sparkling sequined belt
That girths your hunter’s waist,
Those tiny sparks of glittering light
That transcend time and space;

From such a nebulae am I
Conceived in newborn suns,
My DNA is stardust-laced
My blood with sunlight runs;

Yet though my heart with passion swells
Your majesty to see,
Dark-matter rules this feeble soul
Blind mortal that I be;

So shoot your arrow true and swift
That virtue’s light may flow,
Transform the dark crypt of my mind
With passion’s starlit glow;

Then I will fill my quill to brim
Galactic mists I’ll fly,
To write about Orion’s Bow
Upon the parchment sky.