The Oeuvre

Mischievous waves of the perennial spring,‘Tween thy currents am I dispos’d to dreamOf deeps as Marianna Trench may seem,The heady scents their musky innards bring;Blown South-bound ‘gainst the steadfast Sirocco‘Low the mountains, will I trudge fertile plains,Then forage the fabled thick-shrubb’d terrainsNestling the marshy gorge of Morocco…The forbearance of my eager membersIs match’d only by…

Little by little, you extract my bloodInto countless vials that wildly floodThe air that I breathe, sights that my eyes read,You make it hard while you leave me to bleed. Moment by moment, you walk no closer,But farther, and why? is one big poser.For all I see, I’m not blind to omitSly that you are, you’re…

Ah friendship! To what depths can you plummet,In the advent of your sombre twilight?Does that back oozing red not highlightThe stark imminence of your sorry death?Time was when you fed your morsels of faithTo a parched palate lying stripped of taste;But all now fills this drab expanse of wasteIs the portent of your lumbering wraith!Yes,…

The Sun rises rather early on my heart,And the days of pining, are longer and hard;So much sweat for so short a walk!Empty rivers, but so much to ask,Unbearable nights, writhing in the dark!Heat waves and so much more,         And you thought that was summer?Well, that’s the season you never knew…         That season is –…

How much more shall I extol youTo the Heavens, to all garments divine?Long have I wondered it is few,So I’ll praise till the sun shall shine. I have not these labours doneSo you shall jeer at me later on,Still have I clothed you in jewels ethereal,With supplies that are beyond my all. How much more…