Lost On the Shore

Sleep my love in slumbers arms
There 'pon taffeta rose
Know the angels envy your charms
While resting within my hearts repose
Quiet, hushed my voice does speak
While violins and harps lacy fingers
Touch the depths my soul does leak
For the heathered joy you did bring her

. Sleep the sleep of lovers rest
Gloved and silent your brow I stroke
Once again, to clutch you to my breast
With fluttering hand of love uncloaked.

Kissing the cheek of a poets voice,now unheard
Lips so cool and lost, yet passions burn
The morn does wax and await your word
While measured in beat of sorrow learn'd.

Look the sleeper in dreams does move
Breathing shallow breaths of life
And in the shift of heart beating prove
The dreamer is not alone in the strife.
Lo the weeping lady, at her vigil does e'er stand
A single piece of metal tis she holding
With scarred and dreams shattered in her hand
A measure of love's once sweet unfolding.
Offering to the sleeper, the lady gives her tears.
The blood poured from eyes of hushed pain
The loss of the sleeper's warm countenance dear.
Sadly she did sing of her loves' refrain.

Arms hold the sleeper, in his repose he knows it naught
A breath and veil of ardor undimmed
Surround the boughs where ensnared, she was caught
And e'er she speaks always speaks of him.

Weep he tells her, for tears to endlessly fall
As if in clutching morning to her breast
The tears mean naught to her heart at all
And she in pain lies her head in sorrows rest.

Know dear sleeper that weep she shall
Till tears no more tumble and splash
For in the loss of the sleeper, she does pale
And upon Dover Beach, her heart did crash.
Copyright August 1996-StarDancer Inc.

Return To Poetry Index
1
Hosted by www.Geocities.ws