Fragrant jasmine flowering overhead
Its tendrils in wicker arch entwined
I sit and watch as rounded moon ascends
From beyond shadows of the western hills
Busy insect wings tremble in its waxing
And frenetic June-bug rattles on the pane.
The evening breeze disturbs lilac branches
That abrades the overhanging eaves
Where last summer�s busy swallows
Nested and fed irksome gaping young
Yet now, as each gentle breath caresses
It comforts my hesitant brow
Twilight drapes over distant Cathedral towers
Spires rise above the trees as maiden twins
Elegantly adorned in mist�s own fashion
Aloof, they stand prevailing in French lace
Hushed mantra of solemn parishioners
Drifts soulful, on the zephyr�s gentle wings
Then comes to me the sound of music
From where soft grey heavens meet the earth
To its zenith, the moon now reaches
In full bloom it augments its glow
The world rests still in silent slumber
As lone nightingale entertains with its song
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Alone with my thoughts, of all creation
I stand upon rocks, washed clean by the ocean
Clouds overhead scurry madly away
To follow the sun as it bids me �Good-day�
On shore, glows the moon�s silent reflection
Glistening on sea-shells and crystals of sand
Seagulls prepare for the night�s protection
On cliffs of white, lofty, and grand
Stars flashing messages in Morse codes
They tell us we are not a singular unit
In a universe that has many by-ways and roads
That take us beyond Earth�s continuous orbit
Zephyrs playing cacophonous notes
Echoing through hidden crannies and caves
Then calmly return to caress the waves
Singing their songs to mariner�s boats
Darkness has fallen, now awaiting the dawn
Evening has passed in silent fashion
Followed by night�s sincere approbation
Of Nature�s gift of next day�s morn.
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Tell me, my love, a thousand times
In love-notes, messages or rhymes
Give me a sign of your love untold
And I will return it a thousand-fold
Let me hear again with your sweetened tone
Your love for me, you still atone
Let me share, unfalteringly
A love you hold unselfishly
Would your love outlast the sun
Will I remain your �only one�
Whisper to me of your devotion
Can it be deeper than an ocean
How much is your fondness un-spared
Is it, as mine for you, un-compared
Tell me, my love, that you care
That my life, forever, you will share
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Oh! Why, always do you leave me weeping
Day and night, even when I am sleeping
I cannot close my wa�try eyes
No matter how �oft one tries
Why do you reduce me to salted tears
And bring forth my dreaded fears
As you display your sun-tanned skin
No enticing sweetness dwells therein
You make me suffer agonies
I therefore beg of you, please
Desist, and try to mend your ways
That I may enjoy happier days
My reddened eyes no more to ache
Be good to me for pity�s sake
I try to hide my lachrimosity
I have no wish for animosity
If not, I�ll remove you to my dungeon
You are not my favorite onion!
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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My love, let me stroke your hair
And confirm that you are there �
Let me touch your endearing face
Open, honest, and full of grace
Trace my fingers o�er its contours
That I may know that, it is yours
Allow me then to touch your skin
Your wholesomeness yet, resides within
Draw near, that I may absorb your cologne
That identifies you alone
All these senses tell me you are mine
Your beauty unseen, forever benign
I adore you with compassion
No need to recognize in any other fashion
No need to use my eyes
Your tender being, tells no lies
Abstract loveliness you radiate
No other could ever imitate
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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Mirror, mirror, on the wall
Why don�t you be kind to all?
Tell them, following their inspection
Of their true selves in their reflection
Don�t tell them they are thin
Or grossly overweight, therein
Look straight into their eyes
And let them truthfully recognize
Don�t flatter them of unreal beauty
That is not your steadfast duty
Let them see their life-like portraits
With all their individual personal traits
With all the blemishes the Artist gave
In their minds-eye they must save
Beauty-spots and imperfections
As given on His profound directions
He made not two of them the same
Each one would be perfect in His name
Mirror, when they, their appearance, question
Tell them the truth�they are of God�s creation
What He has given in his name -
Whatever your appearance, there is no shame
If He is happy, then so should you be
Your appearance is how He wants all to see
�Harry E. Wheeler
Australia
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without written permission.
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