My poem

My poem is unfinished.
The lines don't rhyme
and the meters all wrong
but it is still a work in progress.
I'm still looking for the words,
trying to find the right meaning
to say a lifetime.
So maybe the end is unknown
and the middle is unwritten
but I think I know just where to start
Here...
is were it begins.
A life of prose to grow with me
from these humble beginnings.
My poem is unfinished.

Poetic

Before I knew you, I wrote love
I wrote of adoration and infatuation
Poems about passion, or lack thereof
for I had yet to feel the sensation.

I realize now that all my poems
when written in a loving pen
No matter what the words or whims
Are prayers for you without amen.

And as all poems have their ends
Poetry's endings are prophetic
And as each prior poem portends
My love for you is poetic.

Wordsmyth

No word I speak marks word on page
To pronounce what hopes I wish to say.
I would read you poetry if you knew
how much each lyric heavy-hearted weigh.

And people say I read to much
I look for a world beyond my door
And yet no matter what I read
I am still longing for something more.

Perhaps I hold too much tragedy
For tonight I read the saddest lines
When even true love I see can fade
And every fair sometime declines

Yet somehow I love with words so deep
Words of gladness and not of woes
But how my cheek still blushes pink
to think of my love as a damask rose

Words and pride are all I have
when all I breathe is breathing you.
Still I doubt the words upon my lips
Because reading words can't make them true.

Countless volumes cannot help me now
Though countless, say I, is love for him.
Shamed am I to lay down love
And wake Diana with a hymn.

And all my words from borrowed ink
can't spill the secret no one knows.
Three spoken words from tongue and lips
can speak to you my heart's true prose.

I find the choice is mine to make
or to sweep under the rug beneath.
Shall I make our story a happy end
or a happy daggers bitter sheath?

Amen

The end of this struggle
At last, the last
Of questions of night
and day, today.
And I kneel to make
my peace. The piece
of loneliness I hold
here. Hear?
This is the end of
wonder. Wonder
aloud to the sky's
blue lie. I lie
on grass to see
the past. Past
my feeble prayer to say
Amen to a man.