Poem – “My Dear, We will come to be” – Romance

Fancy yourself dressed,
In the fanciest gown,
Decked with the rubies of a life once loved,

In all your aromatic kisses,
And eyes that glow in the haze of a summer’s night.
Beauty! Now, dance for me.

Find me in the garden,
With thy roses plucked,
And thy breasts revealed,
I find your loneliness a thwarting thing,
I find no pleasure,
From the previous day.

Give me imagery, dear one.
Give me wine, dear one.
Bend at my feet, and I’ll see into thine eyes,
Made like pearls, embedded in thy skull.
Oh, love. We have been made holy,
Upon God’s temple.

I desire no one else, but thy face upon mine,
No one else, but your kisses I smear.
You have a face, colored by ivory,
And tears that I drink, drained from cheeks
That seem to quiver in the dark.
My dear, have we come to be?

Find me in the garden,
Where the grass caresses my toes,
For I will see thee married,
To me, for me, upon me.

Poem – “Behold, what I View of You, to be the most Beautiful of Truths” – Romance

Faced with a cheek,
Of rose and ivory together,
Unlike the many splintered faces,

Not rent apart by so many tears,
That you keep beneath the swept reddish hair,
I feel thee, with a weight that pulls, and does not press.

I believe,
That love can truly dance.
It is, as I’ve seen it, with eyes upon the hands,
At thy waist, and move upwards on paired hips.
Listless was I, in before I knew of this.
Love has been but a berry to be consumed.

I observe, and in what I observe,
Beauty, marvelous beauty
From the Earth, to the winds,
From the fossils of dead things,
To my lips, to where I give a kiss.

Your face held in my hands,
Your eyes dropping porcelain tears,
Your arms very limp, with legs the same.
Grace has become your last name,
The world makes merry, your beauty.