His heart only knows it MUST speak
Among the cast-offs from the obscurity of ephemera,
My eyes and heart were drawn upward
By a smile, sailed upon the air, its fragrance
Sustaining as steak and potatoes.
How like a secret communication with angels
Are stolen glances among daily chores.
The spirit in the air ready to catch spark.
And there you are, my love, my beloved,
Understanding my need, the sound of my weeping.
Reaching you on distant shores, giving
You the shadow of my sorrow where
You have sweetened my face with kisses.
You are my beloved.
Love's delegate, as poets would call it.
She is the cup of Beauty, who offers
Her separation impelled by worldly intent,
Leading my soul into the spiritual world
Where it will be painted with glory.
I will sing the praise of the soul's deed.
The charm of true love's shelter from the world
Watering paradise with our own tears, and toil.
The promise that came alive when we met.
The fruit and succulence that I cannot live without.
In recalling the first kiss, the moment, the spark,
That first breathe of secret communion
Only we can know, the breath of God
That turned clay into man.
Secrets that no tongue may reveal alone.
The paths we have walked, together,
My course or your course, but always ours,
Hands joined, heads leaning in to conspiracy
Hiding ourselves within ourselves.
Poetry by Reilley
Read 762 times
Written on 2009-02-25 at 16:26
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A Secret Communication
Conquered by sorrow, looking for the secret starAmong the cast-offs from the obscurity of ephemera,
My eyes and heart were drawn upward
By a smile, sailed upon the air, its fragrance
Sustaining as steak and potatoes.
How like a secret communication with angels
Are stolen glances among daily chores.
The spirit in the air ready to catch spark.
And there you are, my love, my beloved,
Understanding my need, the sound of my weeping.
Reaching you on distant shores, giving
You the shadow of my sorrow where
You have sweetened my face with kisses.
You are my beloved.
Love's delegate, as poets would call it.
She is the cup of Beauty, who offers
Her separation impelled by worldly intent,
Leading my soul into the spiritual world
Where it will be painted with glory.
I will sing the praise of the soul's deed.
The charm of true love's shelter from the world
Watering paradise with our own tears, and toil.
The promise that came alive when we met.
The fruit and succulence that I cannot live without.
In recalling the first kiss, the moment, the spark,
That first breathe of secret communion
Only we can know, the breath of God
That turned clay into man.
Secrets that no tongue may reveal alone.
The paths we have walked, together,
My course or your course, but always ours,
Hands joined, heads leaning in to conspiracy
Hiding ourselves within ourselves.
Poetry by Reilley
Read 762 times
Written on 2009-02-25 at 16:26
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