Like That Of Wine

Flattered by that dark silhouette,
Warned by that glory, so enchanting,
Temptation held void,
For that many cries muffled inside.


The rain for once, would stop lashing,
If I would let the sun come down,
But those clouds would never cease to conspire,
For many of those questions unasked.


But the mist would gather nonetheless.
Gather around the burgeoning burden.
The insurmountable weight of mystery.
And the possibility of a light in the darkness.


This is something I would strive for.
If that be my life's last goal.
But my hope grows feeble as the days wane on.
And my road grows coarse as I remain morose.


If not for that grief-stricken haplessness,
If not for those rosebuds left ungathered on that muddy path,
Would you but understand that road only once visited in crude imagination?
Would you but know if not for immodesty?


The gaudiness of beauty sometimes fails,
To waver that thought pinned onto hope,
All of which transformed into the kind that elucidates unrecognizable faith,
And with that mystery left undiscovered,
The best secrets are best left untold,
To count on that very allure of their nature.


 And that is why as I walk on, never weary at heart.
I realize that the decrepit road can be polished new.
All it needs is nurture and some patience.
All I can give is that asked and a little more.


Hope may waver but I may not.
My road holds me steadfast to my ground.
The secrets of the path in front to be discovered.
As time passes on, as we age together.


Like the countenance of wine with age.
So shall you and I and we together.
Age together and pass on our secrets.
So the mystery of love be cherished.
And the secrets passed on after we pass away.

'One fine wine' by Jennifer Main

Through The Seasons

The wind blows.
Strongly bellowing.
The light dims.
In the shadow of the sun.
Blue, black and steely grey.
The raindrops fall in a haze.
Mildly tempting.
Calling out.
And the breeze strengthens.

In her mind and in her heart.
There are but a few lost souls.
Not wanting to leave.
The desire to reside within.
To be lost within these enchanted walls.
For they are overwhelming.
Overpowering.
Much too beautiful.

It's been seven months now.
The prisoner of her heart wishes to linger.
To live on through the storm.
The storm and the rain.
The rain and the spring that follows.
All the seasons of dark and day.

To love.
To cherish.
Never to leave.
Always to stay.

PS. Happy Seven Months, my sweet flower, Enchanta. :-)

Turning Six After Five

Out of words for far too long.
As I write my next verse for you.
As a moment passes by leading us on.
To another following four before it previously.

The last days fall on my mind again.
Days of cacophony and days of beauty.
And as they have all led us to this one today,
A brief lapse in time when we are together even if not.

And I know for sure that when
the beauty has surpassed all else splendidly,
All I can think of now is that
I want to have more of these moments with you.



And now, as I talk about more moments that I want to share
It's been a month since I wrote the three verses above up here.
Six months barely seems a big deal in the time I want with you
From this universe that brought us together and will keep us that way too.

About to part ways we are only for a short while in our longer time together.
But there will be nothing to compare in the love we share in each other.
I know the time ahead may seem bleak but we've had six months of no pain.
And in the glorious love, let's move on with each other.
Hand in hand, eye in eye, souls entwined and hearts captured.



I love you, Enchanta. Happy six month anniversary.

The Dawning Dusk

This is the moment to withstand.
When you're at the eye of the storm.
A tornado meets a great depression blackening.
At the center, where cold metal meets flowing water.
There is tranquility like no other, inexplicable, unforeseen.

Much awaited times lead the Omen on,
As a bolt from the blue hits like a sanguine song,
Shimmering waves break on the rocky shore,
Untainted and carried away, believing evermore,
While a turn of events cry for a season, long gone.

The metallic haze pierces the mildew air.
As the sun melts into the ocean below.
A change is expected, not forlorn, but meant to astonish.
And an alteration forthcoming under the swiftly darkening sky.
As nightly beings rise to battle, striking with love and anguish.

Churning mixed emotions, devoured by a scarlet atmosphere,
A war of sorts, lusty sinews of this world vanquished,
Rising in enlightenment, a dawn hadn't been so crystal clear,
For the deadly tides were over and sat a prayer amidst a hollow wish,
Granted in penance; unknown yet was this mystified wandering fear.