I Want People to Share Their Poetry
[b]Alis Volat Propriis[/b]
Hark ye! and have thine ears upturned
To know of this fair maiden
With whom mortals long have yearned
To journey with in Aidenn
With her eyes so finely paned,
Her touch so deftly lain,
And undying voice engrained
In mem'rable shades of red.
Her flaxen hair in silent hush
Is Earth's greatest design;
Her lips which bring 'pon rose its blush
Do bring the blush 'pon mine.
Oh! to see our souls entwining,
Our particles combining,
And feel Love's sweet light shining
On us from high o'erhead!
Her charity hath kept her heart
Forever pure and youthful.
The Fates that cast her in her part
Had been, with me, truthful.
They spoke to me with silver tongues
And honesty in their lungs,
And to their words I tightly clung
As this message was said:
"That tender face in tender grace
That lies within Man's songs
May steal you from this wretched place
And right all thine heart's wrongs."
My eyes with my desire
Had flown my hopes ever higher -
That I may be one day by her
Lest hand of God may strike me dead.
Wearing, tearing, overbearing -
This uprist through my breast
'til outward drawn, 'twixt us sharing
Companion's sweet caress.
I see her when I'm dreaming
But not in day's bright gleaming,
And no amount of beaming
Brings my light upon her head.
And to her mind, she does believe
I deserve far better;
How can my heart accept this leave
Before it has met hers?
Avaunt, forlorn; decrease!
Let me be now at my peace
To learn the quiet, lonely release
Aching hearts give to the dead.
Her wafting scent - now my bride -
Stays a heavy stain.
That scent's soupçon at eventide
Swells within my brain.
I must end my every day
Knowing she will push away,
But that her heart will still convey
Its love for he whom it must wed.
Hear Beauty sing; 'pon sturdy wing,
See it gracefully rise
To perch atop the welkin swing
And caress the gilded skies.
No one may be above her,
Nor I the one to love her;
She will take another
To be sat by her side instead.
[i]- Copyright Timothy Michael McNeil, 2016[/i]
Hark ye! and have thine ears upturned
To know of this fair maiden
With whom mortals long have yearned
To journey with in Aidenn
With her eyes so finely paned,
Her touch so deftly lain,
And undying voice engrained
In mem'rable shades of red.
Her flaxen hair in silent hush
Is Earth's greatest design;
Her lips which bring 'pon rose its blush
Do bring the blush 'pon mine.
Oh! to see our souls entwining,
Our particles combining,
And feel Love's sweet light shining
On us from high o'erhead!
Her charity hath kept her heart
Forever pure and youthful.
The Fates that cast her in her part
Had been, with me, truthful.
They spoke to me with silver tongues
And honesty in their lungs,
And to their words I tightly clung
As this message was said:
"That tender face in tender grace
That lies within Man's songs
May steal you from this wretched place
And right all thine heart's wrongs."
My eyes with my desire
Had flown my hopes ever higher -
That I may be one day by her
Lest hand of God may strike me dead.
Wearing, tearing, overbearing -
This uprist through my breast
'til outward drawn, 'twixt us sharing
Companion's sweet caress.
I see her when I'm dreaming
But not in day's bright gleaming,
And no amount of beaming
Brings my light upon her head.
And to her mind, she does believe
I deserve far better;
How can my heart accept this leave
Before it has met hers?
Avaunt, forlorn; decrease!
Let me be now at my peace
To learn the quiet, lonely release
Aching hearts give to the dead.
Her wafting scent - now my bride -
Stays a heavy stain.
That scent's soupçon at eventide
Swells within my brain.
I must end my every day
Knowing she will push away,
But that her heart will still convey
Its love for he whom it must wed.
Hear Beauty sing; 'pon sturdy wing,
See it gracefully rise
To perch atop the welkin swing
And caress the gilded skies.
No one may be above her,
Nor I the one to love her;
She will take another
To be sat by her side instead.
[i]- Copyright Timothy Michael McNeil, 2016[/i]
26-30, M
