I Write Poems

Oberon (The Undeserving King of Summer's Love)

They can change the seasons,
make pure the room of rot,
place a crown upon the fractured head,
and calm the borderlining hue.
With whisp that bends no willow
but sways a raging head,
emboldening this shade to reach up
and stand beside a blooming court.
Witness boundless glory
growing wild beneath their feet.
A driving force of beauty
followed by a peerless grief
who knows he cannot hold them
for they belong to brighter skies.

This begger king is broken,
profane and undeserving.
Joy's sky is painted fancifully,
with the whimsy of their heart
yet wasted on the pitied,
deserving of kinder eyes.
It's he, this seelie poser
who poisons Graceful's well
with doubt and degradation.
A knotting of nooses
collecting at the feet,
ready to kill the flowers
that rise to feel the warmth.

The summer deserves better
than a spector of "glory days"
who can only speak in stories
of what was but cannot be.
Heed the storm that rages,
lighting is on it's way.
Let go of summer Oberon,
they deserve a better knight,
king,
court,
life,
love.
The Serenade is not for you.