So Much In Love

My heart whispers
Thy name in its full bloom
As it burns and yearns for thy glimpse
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

Shadows of my nights
Wait upon river banks in silence
For thy starry eyes for there is no light but thee
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

I long to be seen
Mirrored in verdant green of thy eyes
For my soul hast not known such beauty before
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

I await for thy perilous seas
To devour my boat
For I sail out on my heart wanting to be submerged
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

Forlorn is my valley
Until thy full moon blossoms upon my hills
And seize my barren landscapes with silvery bliss
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

Pour into my soul
Thy spirit of love and carry me unto heaven
For I seek eternity in worship of thee
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

Ah the chastity of my heart,
Travels far beyond the wisdom of my mind
That it shall not beat but beat only for thee
Ay, tis not love, then what must it be?

Such is the sate of my existence
that life itself is a false pretence without thy love
so I wait in anticipation for the sound of thy footsteps
Ay, tis love and I, so much in love

10.11.05

Sweet Scent of December

In colour of soft golden light
where the amber of your skin shines
in silvery shadows of dawn
reflected upon starry waters
ricocheted from clear blue skies
lost in the deep green of yours eyes
beheld by your gentle gaze
echoed through the deepest cores of your heart
in the very sweetness of air drawn from your lungs
breathed through your lips
felt by the touch of your finger tips
shivering in the cold melodies of your tongue
as it touches the porcelain plains of softness
where your name echoes...
where you have claimed,
where every breath, every heart beat
and every ounce of emotion belongs to you
being reborn in every inch
as it clings to your warmth
and whispers its euphoria
bruised with aches of longing
drowned in your love
at last devoured in your essence
in you...

my body... ablaze in its need
with sweet scent of December

04.11.05

Sweet whispers of sorrow

As we convoke
along river banks
the water runs anti-clockwise
and the birds wail out
sweet whispers of sorrow
that you are my beloved
and I, a saint
in worship
of you
in search of heaven and hell
in need of all eternity
where the old sounds of siren
echo and die
and I begin my journey
unto you
in
sweet whispers of sorrow
I search for you
knowing you are
where my heart is...
22.10.05

Untitled

When confusion begins,
I am my reticent self again
tired of your bullshit vows
dying for another ending phase
so many thoughts
and so many beings
captured in my mind
yet all that echoes through me
is my silent self
hold me within
where shadows disappear
and your prayers brighten my days
through endless circle of dust
and hurricanes in disguise
where they hang me on cross
and darken my wisdom of you
save me through your prayers
and bring me to myself
spirit upon spirit
as the birds begin to fly
in gardens of my silence
and so I shall speak again
when confusion ends.
06.06.05