1 That you would do, I ask thee this:
2 Remind me with one gentle kiss
3 So that I could now, reminded be,
4 Know not for lips to used thee;
5 And mark intentions fair I do!
6 Fair you be, and this I knew
7 And knowing do- I ask thee this:
8 For two puckered twins entranced in bliss:
9 Our four lips together, but two hearts amiss.
10 With one gentle kiss, reminded be
11 To not for lips should I used thee!
1 Two hunters, friends, a forest went,
2 And each to hunt an able deer;
3 But friendship more than effort spent,
4 For a single fawn live forest near.
5 And that doe, being caught by one,
6 Was, for one, cause enough-
7 To make fast friends thus undone,
8 And future discourse rough.
9 The fawn, to one, was cause for woe,
10 And the hunters, friends, would thus bemoan:
11 When hunting both one single doe,
12 Its better hunters hunt alone!
1 The broken swords of belligerent hearts
2 Do Depths of dolar swing
3 To meet on battles plain,
4 The field of my embittered soul.
5 But I this day expell, and
6 Pledge this solemn moment,
7 To this day I’ll fight,
8 Alone if it be so.
9 Find me the iron sterling
10 For which to slay mine betrayer,
11 Which is to myself as I
12 Am the one to owes contempt.
13 Because this is the war
14 Of my beginning, my inner destruction
15 Oh this war against passive inaction,
16 I will plan, or siege, or sail:
17 To lead this broken warrior to victory.
18 Alone! If it be so.
19 Let it not.
1 In the grace of night, I your hand took,
2 And placed its subjects in mine own
3 To stir when I in your aspect look:
4 That look to only lovers known.
5 And looking so,
6 I saw in yours a so brilliant hue:
7 Those eyes of ‘compassed maiden’s milk
8 And dark honest marble centered true,
9 Neath lashes of soft heaven’s silk.
10 Your waist endured my agile hands,
11 Which together conquered nervous fright,
12 In concert performed a beloved dance
13 And moved to the tune of night.
14 To peck, to trow,
15 The music ceased, and with it swayed
16 Our aspects towards the either:
17 To find in lips, that love unbayed’,
18 Which unease beguiled neither.
1 One arrow poised, on ash wood bent,
2 Did cupid drow and onward send,
3 And hit me as arrows argued meant,
4 To wound me that which love attends.
5 But alas no love attends my wound,
6 Nor hope recourse the dire gloom:
7 That none but death in deadly stature rent
8 A heal to wounds in despair spent.
9 This naturally sorrow nothing give
10 But able choice to die, to live:
11 To live is death, and death to breathe,
12 So love unloved doth give me leave.
1 Timid torpor and tardy pace,
2 Lethargic state and incisive sleep,
3 Are those shaped by currents grace,
4 Who as values safety keep.
5 Principle beg the world turn,
6 And rules the kingdom run,
7 And whilst dire passion burn,
8 Law shan’t be made undone.
9 But many things which’t be known,
10 And many good things won,
11 Would not but safety much condoned
12 Or be weren’t policy un-spun.
13 No adventures badly be-
14 A trenchant antithesis-
15 Just good stories told eagerly
16 As hell remembered bliss.
The Thanksgiving Turkey
1 To gape, to gawk, to gloat, and watch,
2 We sat beside the Turkey meal-
3 In stature ready to swell our paunch
4 And with glutton the devil appeal.
5 “Now fold thine hands” the father quote,
6 “And give thanks to Him adored”.
7 In this feast, though by family dote,
8 The Turkey rose, abhorred.
9 “Eat me not!” quothe the fowl,
10 “If you pray to me, alone-
11 Thou suffer hells vulgar bowels,
12 If bastered idols you condone.
13 You say to feast, and God give thanks,
14 But fat sit you and praise thy bird
15 Which heaven high happly makes,
16 You which o’er eat, undeterred.”
17 In awe we sat, the Turkey prophet
18 Thus laid down his head,
19 father with the beef brochette
20 Made aptly sure twas dead.
21 In heaven’s interest, or tangible fear,
22 We put away our porcelain plates,
23 And none the Turkey dare come near,
24 And sits there still, as of late.
1 Charged to lauding write, chartered to praising pen,
2 I sat at desk, digits ready, biting my truant lead.
3 Words of gaud and pompous play left the poem dead,
4 So in succor and patience: faith, tried not what, but when.
5 When in paper put her grace, and eternize her light,
6 Look not to gloss for words, but in thy heart, and write.
7 When time wearied thin, and in mine heart I’d looked,
8 Revealed were words which inscribed her plain:
9 A panacea as to null an author’s bane-
10 Those words which beauty from her aspect took.
11 Elements required for a panegyric be
12 In present composed in poem I giv’eth thee.
1 Many badly things, remembrance brings,
2 And put a mind n’ to a tempest state,
3 But pleasant things in mind to your face clings
4 Which in mind make badly things abate.
5 And you and me may amorous be,
6 And I and you may amorous not,
7 But when I think upon you fondly,
8 It seems are all badly things forgot.
9 My thoughts jealousy make in wealthy Kings
10 Who without you dwell on badly things!
11 So in sleep I will dream, and day will trow,
12 Of you which please my troubled mind so.
1 When trouble lauding doth beg a helpful healing,
2 A redress is found in her eyes divine.
3 Words of laud, glory, from them revealing
4 Do prose and poem with perfection entwine.
5 Oh what stanzas still unwrote doth abide her eyes:
6 Which to eternize in ink that depthless hue.
7 I but praise that poet, who can poetry supply,
8 That details the beauty that god with her imbue.
9 Let eyes like those of boundless pearls, peculate
10 My heart whose care decease when in that state.
1 Dost thou know, my world is but a candle?:
2 A flicker of fragile flame who fights to exist.
3 And that which blow faster than flame can handle,
4 Oft extinguish that light which fights to persist.
5 When thou depart, it takes its knavish shape:
6 That wind to end put my refulgent state.
7 Desolate left am I, lachrymose, bereft-
8 By wind whose breath is malice deft.
9 Dost thou know, thy presence make seasons?
10 To be here, thou cajoles the earth into spring,
11 Whilst thy absence winter use as its reason
12 And the ears of earth to thy migration cling.
13 And I, but a candle, am season subject,
14 So thy absence the weather badly infect,
15 To with winter and wind, flame extirpate
16 And with distance destroy my mirthful state.